


Stealing Time

by Lena86



Series: We Could Be Heroes [1]
Category: Ashes to Ashes (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 18:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena86/pseuds/Lena86
Summary: 'I'll give you the same advice I once gave a skinny young PC,' Nelson said. 'Slip out quietly. Keep your head down.'





	1. I Will Be King

‘DI Drake, I presume?’

Alex smiled, recognizing the soft northern tone from her tapes. ‘DCI Tyler,’ she acknowledged. 

‘DI’ll do,’ the man said, coming to rest at the bar beside her. ‘Never quite made it back up to DCI with the Guv ably occupying the spot. Thought it was about time you and I had a little chat.’

He watched her gaze drop back to her wineglass, her eyes shadowed.

‘Did you know?’ she asked quietly. ‘About… him.’

He shook his head. ‘Not everything. Obviously I knew about myself,’ he went on. ‘Difficult not to, after a leap of faith like that.’

‘Is that what that was?’ she wondered aloud.

He offered her a slight smile. ‘Wise man once told me that when you can feel you know you’re alive.’ He paused, then continued, ‘Started to put together bits and pieces about the Guv in about ’79. Visited Farringfield. Couldn’t tell him, of course.’

‘So you left.’

‘It was time,’ he said, taking a sip from his pint.

‘How did you know?’

‘You just know, I s’pose. Annie was ready. It was time,’ he repeated, nodding. He regarded her seriously for a moment. ‘Didn’t you?’

She glanced down and away. ‘I didn’t exactly choose this.’ The words were spoken quietly, with no hint of emotion. 

Sam watched her a moment, wondering at her meaning. ‘I’m sorry about Molly, Alex.’

She looked up, offering him a tight smile. ‘She’ll be ok. She has Evan, her godfather. He brought me up. She’ll be ok.’

He smiled back at her and she took a sip of her wine. When she returned her attention to him, he was looking at her thoughtfully. ‘What?’

‘Nothin’,’ he said, raising his pint glass and taking a long sip. 

‘No, what?’ she demanded.

‘It’s just… all of heaven’s out there, but you hardly ever stray from the copper’s entrance.’

‘Well… we’re all in here every night. You’ve been in most nights,’ she said defensively.

‘_Most_ nights, yeah. But not every night. And not the rest of the day. Even Ray’s got something going on out there,’ he waved at the doors. The ones you could pass back and forth between as many times as you liked. ‘It’s hard to tell here but I reckon it’s been a week. Maybe two. But you don’t leave, do you, Alex?’ he finished softly.

‘I can’t,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not ready.’

‘He has a job to do, Alex. He’ll come when he’s ready.’

‘And what do I do ‘til then, Sam?’ she asked, desperation creeping into her voice. ‘Sit here staring at the door waiting for Gene bloody Hunt?’

She hadn’t raised her voice, not really, yet the pub fell silent at her words. The name thundering around the room as though she’d screamed it. 

‘Ma’am,’ Shaz began, rising from her chair only to have Chris lay a restraining hand on her arm.

But Alex wasn’t finished. ‘And meanwhile, he’s out there,’ she flung an arm towards the _other_ door. The one she could no longer walk through. ‘Tearing around London in a new bloody car, smacking heads and kicking down doors. The same armed “_bastard_”, ‘ she made air quotes, imbuing the word with a Northern twang they all recognized, ‘he's always been and _forgetting_.’ She shook her head, quieting down again. ‘Sooner or later there will be another Keats. Another Morgan. And he’ll be alone. And he won’t remember-‘ She trailed off, suddenly aware that the whole pub was regarding her in open-mouthed shock. 

‘Blimey, Drake,’ Ray muttered into his bitter.

Alex dropped her gaze back to her wineglass. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured to Sam as behind them the conversation started back up. 

Sam, however, was grinning. 'Bloody 'ell.'

‘What?’ she snapped.

‘No wonder he-‘

‘He what?’

Annie appeared at Sam’s side, saving him from having to finish the sentence. ‘That’s enough,’ she said softly to Sam, giving Alex an understanding look. ‘I think you should show ‘er, Sam.’

Sam looked at his wife. Alex watched as wordless communication passed between them. Then he looked back at Alex. ‘Come on.’ He looked up and caught the barman’s eye. The man nodded and walked towards them. ‘Annie, love, watch the bar for Nelson.’

They led her into a back room. It was small and dusty and contained only a sofa, a rickety cane chair and a television set. There was another door set into the wall opposite that looked as rarely used as the room itself.

‘Have a seat, Alex,’ Sam said, settling himself on the sofa while Nelson stood beside the television. 

‘Before we go on, you should know there are rules out there,’ Sam began.

‘Mr. Hunt didn’t invent that world, sister,’ Nelson said quietly, speaking with his own accent now they were out of the bar.

‘I… know that. I think, ‘ Alex said slowly. ‘There was too much detail from me, too much from you,’ she said, looking at Sam.

He nodded. ‘He was just like us at one point. A soul shocked from his body. Living his life in purgatory, making his way up to DCI. I reckon the… uh…  _ other _ job just came naturally.’

‘But it _ is _ real,’ Alex said, looking from Sam to Nelson for confirmation. ‘And Keats certainly seemed to have a specific role…’

‘No doubt,’ Nelson said. ‘And like he said, there are rules, Alex. But not about forgetting.’ He reached down and flicked the television on.

‘What –‘ Alex began, but Sam laid a hand on her arm, quieting her.

_ The picture cleared slowly, showing the street outside the Railway Arms. Gene Hunt stood alone, watching her enter the pub. Then he was facing Keats, shoving the other man away from himself and listening to the taunting hiss issuing from his mouth.  _

_ Then he was back in CID, mercifully restored to order. In the main room, someone was shouting the odds, demanding to know where his desk was; who had his iPhone. Gene opened the door to his office.  _

_ ‘Word in yer shell like, pal.’ _

‘Same thing he said to me,’ Sam snorted, ‘just before he viciously assaulted me.’

_ CID was empty, dark. The only light streaming through the window in Gene’s office. He was sitting at his desk, looking down at something in his hands. _

_ The man who had been shouting in the last clip poked his head around the door. ‘What’ve you got there, Guv?’ _

_ ‘None of your bloody business, DI Clark,’ Gene said, the words strangely devoid of rancour. ‘Did you want somethin’?’ _

_ ‘Beer o’clock,’ Clark said. ‘I… uh… owe you a drink, remember?’ _

_ ‘Another night. Got paperwork to catch up on.’  _

_ ‘Paperwork, Guv?’ Clark said, raising an eyebrow. _

_ Gene glared. ‘Yes, Clark. Paperwork. ‘ad to ‘appen sometime. Now bugger off before I decide it’s time to discover the joys of delegation.’ _

_ The man looked as though he was going to say something but thought better of it and left.  _

_ Gene sighed, looking down at the object in his hands again. Then he rose and moved to the filing cabinet to pour himself a drink, tossing the object onto the desk. It glinted in the streetlight. _

_ 6-6-20 _

The images faded.

‘You put CID back together after Keats tore the roof off,’ Sam said quietly.

Alex continued to stare at the screen, as though she could will it back into life. ‘Gene-‘

‘Wasn’t him, Alex,’ Nelson said. ‘I’d know. It was you. Mistakes were made that night.’

‘What do you mean?’ Alex asked, finally looking up at him. 

‘He means it might be that your presence is required at Fenchurch East,’ Sam said.

She looked at him sharply. ‘For how long?’

‘Some little while,’ Nelson said, smiling. ‘Don’t go looking for absolutes, sister. They don’t exist. Not even here.’

‘I suppose there’s no point askin’ if you want-‘ Sam began.

‘No. No there isn’t,’ she said. ‘How do I-‘

‘That’s where the rules come into it,’ Nelson said softly.

‘Rules?’ Alex demanded, getting to her feet. ‘You’re doing to dangle this in front of me then tell me I can’t because there are  _ rules _ against it? This is just another kind of purgatory, this  _ waiting _ , and I can’t…’

Nelson’s gaze didn’t waver. He stood unflinching in the face of her anger. 

‘The rules state that once someone walks through those doors they can't go back the other way,’ Sam said quietly.

‘Well that’s-‘ Alex began, keeping her gaze leveled at Nelson.

‘Rules don’t say anythin’ about the door in the saloon bar, though, do they Nelson?’ Sam continued.

‘Not a thing,’ Nelson said, holding Alex’s gaze steadily.

‘In the saloon bar?’ Alex repeated weakly.

Nelson smiled. ‘I'll give you the same advice I once gave a skinny young PC,’ he said. ‘Slip out quietly. Keep your head down.’

Alex looked from one to the other, her eyes shining. ‘Thank you.’ She turned and headed towards the other door. 

‘Don’t be too hard on him, Alex,’ Sam called. She paused and looked back at him. ‘Even guardian angels get it wrong sometimes.’ He winked.

She snorted. ‘Gene Hunt’s no angel.’

Sam returned her smile, a knowing glint in his eye. ‘He’s the Guv.’


	2. You Will be Queen

The street was deserted. Alex had been half afraid Keats would be lurking outside the pub, somehow aware of her decision, but there was no one in sight. She shivered, pulling her oversized coat tighter around herself and thanking whomever was listening that she’d held on to the eighties coat. 

‘That’s a thought…’ she murmured. She had no idea how much time had passed here. She turned back towards the Railway Arms, but the windows were dark. Clearly, no help was going to be forthcoming from that direction. 

She started to walk towards the main road, towards the station. She didn’t meet another person until she was only a street or two away. Realizing it would be better to know when she was now, rather than when she reached the station, she moved towards him.

‘Excuse me?’

The man looked up from his feet and Alex almost sighed. He was clearly drunk. Very drunk, she corrected herself. It became clear he’d been staring at his feet in an effort to keep himself upright when he tripped and fell into her.

She dragged him upright and was rewarded with a lascivious leer. ‘All righ’ darlin’. Come ‘ere often?’

‘Really?’ she asked, exasperated. She reached into her pocket, praying it was there and smiling grimly when her hand closed around it. Her warrant card. She pulled it out and showed the man, watching his face pale. ‘Could you tell me the date please, sir?’ 

‘Um…’

‘An easier question, then. The year?’

‘’s 1983,’ he slurred after a moment’s thought. ‘Yeah. Def’nitely ‘83.’ He grinned, pleased with himself. ‘Next?’

‘I don’t suppose you have the time?’

‘Time you an’ me got to know each other better, sweetheart. Whatcha say?’

‘Still a police officer, I’m afraid,’ she said sweetly. ‘The time?’

‘P’lice officer. Right.’ He peered at his watch. ‘Two… somethin’. Fifteen. Two fifteen.’ He looked up at her. ‘C’n I go now?’

‘Please,’ she said, stepping aside. ‘And don’t drive!’ she called after him as he staggered away. 

Two fifteen AM, she thought. Good chance he wouldn’t be there. She should find somewhere to rest. Go in tomorrow. But... it hadn’t been two in the morning in the Railway Arms. 

‘Everything is significant,’ she muttered, heading in the direction of the station once more. It was as dark as she’d expected it to be once she reached it. She looked up at the windows of CID, devoid of light. But still…

She walked in, flashing her warrant card at a desk sergeant she didn’t recognize and feeling a pang of sadness for Viv. The thought gave her pause. She’d left Chris, Ray and Shaz behind without a goodbye. They’d understand, she suspected. And Sam was right, they had their own afterlives to be getting on with, but they wouldn’t be here anymore. She was walking into a very different CID to the one she knew. 

As she pushed the doors open as quietly as possible and walked through the darkened incident room, Alex’s doubts faded at the sight ahead of her.

Gene Hunt was standing at this office window, his back to CID, drink in hand. Alex came to a stop in the doorway to his office, watching him for a few unguarded moments. 

Headlights in the street below threw light against the window and cast him in sharp relief. Alex took in the unruly state of his blond hair. Usually relatively neat, now it was out of place, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. His broad shoulders were slumped slightly with fatigue. Yet even given the exhaustion that practically screamed at her from every line in his body he still filled the space, his presence impressing itself upon her, reassuring her. 

He spoke and made Alex jump, guilty at watching him for so long.

‘Sam Tyler once told me about his fourth birthday. His dad ‘ad come ‘ome-‘

‘But Sam didn’t look at him,’ Alex said, remembering the story. ‘He couldn’t. Afraid if he did, his father wouldn’t really be there,’ she finished quietly, her voice sounding rough to her own ears. 

He tensed, allowing his head to fall forwards until his forehead rested against the glass. ‘If you’re gonna disappear, Bolls, I’d prefer you did it now. I’m enjoyin’ this here view and don’t much fancy turnin’ around just so you can do your vanishin’ act.’

She stepped into the familiar room, moving slowly towards him. ‘Enjoying the view, Guv? It’s just the street.’

‘New car,’ he said, nodding towards a silver-blue Mercedes parked right outside the building. ‘An’ I can see you in the glass,’ he added, knocking back the scotch.

Alex froze, remembering months of seeing Molly's reflection everywhere she looked. Refusing to turn around to see her little girl wasn't there. She found the reflection of his eyes in the glass, held his gaze. ‘Do you really believe I’m not here?’

He sniffed. ‘Can’t see why you would be. You were all sorted, Drakey. Railway Arms for you.’

Alex glanced down at the desk, at the small shiny object that had caught her attention. She reached out and picked up the epaulette number. ‘I would have thought you’d have locked this away by now,’ she said, running her thumb over it. 

He turned his head slightly, allowing her to see his profile as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another measure. ‘Thought about it,’ he admitted, guessing at what she’d picked up. 

‘Why didn’t you?’ she asked.

‘Didn’t want to forget.’

‘You said you wished you’d never remembered.’

‘I know what I said, Alex.’

‘You-‘ Alex sighed, frustrated. ‘Gene, as nice as it is, I’m not going to have an entire conversation with your back.’ She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him around to face her. 

He drew himself up to his full height, looking down at her with a blank expression. ‘Careful, Bolls. That was almost a compliment.’ His gaze swept over her from head to toe. ‘You’re ‘ere then.’

‘I am,’ she said, regarding him intently. 

‘Why?’

‘There was a saloon bar.’ He snorted his amusement at that but didn’t respond. Alex sighed. ‘I thought it would be different,’ she murmured.

‘Women,’ he growled. ‘Never bloody ‘appy.’ He sighed theatrically, knocking back the last of his scotch. ‘It’s heaven, Bolls. Even you should’ve been somewhat satisfied.’

‘Why me, Gene?’

‘Why you what?’ 

‘Sam stayed with you for seven years. God knows how long Chris and Ray were here. But it was like you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.’

‘Why’d you come back then?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. 

‘Gene…’

‘Because they didn’t draw so much bloody attention to themselves! Well… apart from Tyler. But he sorted it out. And besides, that Morgan was pretty harmless, if you don’t include the small matter of his trying to put me away for murder. You, on the other ‘and, being the gobby pair of stockings you are, caught Keats’ eye. I hope I don’t ‘ave to tell you why that’s a bad thing?’

‘He was after you, Guv, not me.’

‘But he used you to get to me, Bolls. Because ‘e could.’

She stared at him. ‘You think… you sent me away because you think I make you weak? Of all the chauvinistic, bloody minded-‘

‘I sent you away, DI Drake, because I wanted to keep you safe. Next time I won’t bloody bother!’

‘Promise?’

‘What?’

‘Promise me you won’t send me away again.’

‘Alex.’ Her name sounded like both a plea for absolution and a warning to stop pushing. The way he’d said it when his memory had come to claim him in the deserted house in Lancashire. 

Alex was forcibly reminded of her own words that night.  _ Do I mean nothing to you, Gene? _ She couldn’t believe they were arguing already and she knew she really shouldn’t push him, but she couldn’t stop, not now. ‘Gene, I can’t go back there, everything I want is… elsewhere. If you don’t-‘

He looked at her now, his eyes narrowing. ‘If I don’t what?’ She shrugged, unwilling to put the remainder of her thought into words, but he caught her meaning anyway. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Bolls. Course I bloody do. That’s the trouble.’ He sighed. ‘This place isn’t safe for an extended stay, Bolly. You come, you sort yer ‘ead out, you move on. If you ‘appen to be very unlucky you come to the attention of a prize twat like Keats. Once yer through the doors he can’t touch you. He can’t go in there,’ he said, sounding somewhat smug, ‘’e’s barred.’

‘So are you,’ she said softly.

He glanced at her from under his lashes. ‘No.’

‘But you won’t go through.’

‘Job to do. I go where I’m needed, Bolls. Always ‘ave done. And I’m needed ‘ere.’

‘What about me?’

‘You were… sorted,’ he said again, as though that were the only explanation required. 

‘I have unfinished business,’ she said, catching his gaze and holding it.

He stared at her as she reached out and placed the shoulder number back on the desk. Then she took three steps, moving around his desk until she was standing in front of him. 

She slid her hand under the lapel of his jacket, finding his heartbeat. 

‘You appear to be short staffed, DCI Hunt,’ she said quietly, nodding her head gently in the direction of CID.

‘I can assure you there’s nothing  _ short _ about my  _ staff _ , DI Drake,’ he responded.

She smirked up at him. ‘You need me, Guv. We’re a team.’

‘The Gene Genie doesn’t need anyone, Bollykecks. Told yer before, can’t have you puttin’ me off me stroke.’ When she didn’t move or respond, his expression softened. ‘Better off on me own, Alex.’

He turned away, reaching for the bottle and his glass. Alex let her hand trail over his shirt before dropping it to her side. He poured himself a generous measure and turned back to face her, leaning against the window frame.

She regarded him for a moment, eyes drinking in the way the dark fabric of his suit contrasted with the blond halo of his hair. The impossibility of him washed over her in a fresh wave. This man who had carried the secret of Sam Tyler’s ‘death’ alone for three years, who had continued to function here without remembering why, who was now striving to hold on to the memory that had almost destroyed him. The memory of his own death, of Sam and Chris, Ray and Shaz. His memory of her. 

‘You keep telling me I shouldn’t be here but you haven’t told me to go, Gene.’

‘Pretty sure I ‘ave done. Should’ve known you doing as you were told was too bloody good to be true.’

‘I realized the moment I walked through that door that I didn’t want to be there,’ she said softly. He looked up at her, his expression inscrutable. ‘I want to be here.’ She swallowed, finding the next words harder to say than she’d anticipated. ‘With you.’

When he finally spoke, his voice was surprisingly low. ‘I told you it’s not safe for you ‘ere, Bolls. Would never’ve sent you away otherwise.’

‘What about you?’ she asked, surprised to find her throat constricting, her eyes burning.

Concern flashed in his eyes before being skilfully masked. He took a gulp of his drink. ‘My presence is required ‘ere for a bit longer.’

‘So’s mine. By you,’ she said, raising her hand and gently pressing her index finger into his chest.

He looked down at her finger then back up at her face. ‘I can’t let you –‘

‘You can’t stop me,’ she laughed, and then sobered abruptly as a thought occurred to her. ‘Can you?’

He gave her a crooked smirk ‘If I say I can will you bugger off back to the Railway Arms and get me a pint in like a good girl?’

‘I’d say it was unlikely, wouldn’t you, Guv? You once said that we had a connection. I think you were right.’


	3. And the Guns Shot Above Our Heads

‘You do, do you Bolls?’ Gene regarded her through narrowed eyes, his lashes casting a shadow on his cheeks as he tilted his head down so he could look at her. 

‘Yes. I do,’ she said, moving slightly closer and tilting her head back, her gaze flicking from his hooded eyes to the slight pout of his lips and back again. She badly wanted to kiss him but wanted him to be the one to move. Needed him to be. Their last kiss, initiated by her, had been a goodbye. This had to be something else. A tacit agreement that she could stay. That he  _ wanted _ her to stay. 

The texture of the atmosphere in the room changed, making the walls seem closer somehow, the light filtering in from the street serving only to illuminate the shadows. They were standing so close now that they were sharing oxygen; Alex could only see the faintest glimmer of Gene’s eyes under his lashes. She felt her breath still in her lungs as his hand found hers, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist. 

The door to the office burst open, admitting the very unwelcome figure of DI Clarke. To Alex’s surprise, Gene didn’t move. 

‘Guv! Thought you might still be here.’ The man spotted Alex, couldn’t miss how close they were to one another. ‘Oh.’

‘Every bloody time,’ Gene muttered. Still not looking away from Alex, he snapped, ‘What?’

‘We’ve got a shout, Guv.’

‘It’s the middle of the bloody night. May’ve escaped your notice, DI Clarke, but we’re not on duty and I’m a bit busy ‘ere.’

‘I can see that,’ Clarke said, clearly not thinking. 

Gene’s head snapped around and he glared at the man. ‘What was that, Detective Inspector?’

‘It’s Carlisle, guv. Uniform think they’ve found him.’

‘Bastard. Why the bloody hell didn’t you say so, Clarke?’

‘Saying so now, Guv.’ DI Clarke had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘Sorry, miss.’

Alex smiled and stepped forward, holding out a hand for Clarke to shake. ‘DI Drake. What’s going on?’’

‘No you don’t, Bolly. You no longer work ‘ere,’ Gene said warningly, pulling his coat on.

‘Bol- you’re  _ that _ DI Drake.’ Clarke said. 

Alex looked around at Gene who was busily emptying the contents of a drawer into his coat pocket. ‘ _ That _ DI Drake?’ she repeated, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He returned her look with a carefully blank one of his own. ‘You’re staying here, Bolls,’ he said firmly, pulling his gloves on.

‘You know I’m not,’ she said.

‘Guv, we really have to-‘

‘Right,’ Gene snapped. He levelled a gloved finger at Alex. ‘Stay put.’ Then he turned on his heel, coat whirling out around him, a sight so achingly familiar that Alex felt her breath catch in her throat. 

Remembering something, she fumbled in her pocket, yanking her warrant card free and opening it. 

Detective Inspector Alex Drake. Exactly the same as before. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A ‘void’ stamp, perhaps. But nothing. 

‘I  _ do _ bloody work here,’ she muttered, shoving it back in her pocket and shouting after Gene and DI Clarke, ‘I’m coming with you!’ 

She caught up with them as Gene was starting the Mercedes. Clarke had the passenger door open and was about to get in when Alex appeared beside him, slightly out of breath. She leaned down and looked at Gene, raising an eyebrow expectantly. 

‘Oh for pity’s sake!’ he growled. ‘Get in then, Madame Fruitcake. Clarke you get in the back.’

‘Guv?’ Clarke said, sounding a little taken aback as Alex slid into the passenger seat. She stifled a smirk, thinking how much it would have annoyed her if someone else had taken the passenger seat of the Quattro.

Gene rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t just stand there like a pillock, Clarke. Scum to catch. Get  _ in _ , Inspector!’

The man had barely managed to shut the door when Gene screeched away from the station, swerving around the corner and into the night time streets of east London. Clarke was thrown clear across the backseat and struggled to right himself as the car hit three more corners in quick succession. 

‘Sorry about this,’ Clarke said to Alex. ‘The Guv treats speed limits as more of a suggestion than a hard and fast rule.’

‘Don’t  _ ever _ apologize for my driving,’ Gene snapped. ‘ Besides, got to show Bolly here what the Merc can do, ‘aven’t I, Bolls?’ 

She nodded when he glanced over. ‘So long as we get there in one piece,’ she said, smirking when she saw Gene roll his eyes. ‘Where is there, anyway? What’s going on?’

‘Bird called Moira Allen came down the station a couple of days ago, wanted to give us information on her boyfriend, Daniel Carlisle,’ Gene began. ‘Unfortunately DI Clarke and my very good self were out at the time, leaving the goon squad to take her statement. Bastard!’ This last was aimed at a black cab driver who’d stupidly believed the green light meant it was safe for him to cross an intersection.

‘By the time we found out about it, Moira was missing, along with Carlisle. There’s every chance she just got cold feet and ran off with him, but the Guv-‘

‘Not bloody likely. Statement like that? Girl was afraid for her life.’

‘Why didn’t you offer her protective custody?’ Alex asked. 

Gene glanced over at her. ‘I wasn’t there and as you so tactfully pointed out earlier, we’re missing a couple of faces from the A team.’

Alex nodded and shot him an apologetic look. ‘So what’s Carlisle’s story?’ she asked. 

Gene didn’t respond, his mouth set into a thin line. 

‘He runs a couple of brothels,’ Clarke supplied. ‘Treats the girls badly. Most of them don’t even speak English.’

The Mercedes squealed to a stop outside what looked like an abandoned factory and Gene reached across Alex, pulling the glove box open and removing two guns. He handed one to Alex. 

‘Might as well make yourself useful since you insisted on coming along.’

He got out of the car and nodded to the uniformed officer who had walked over to greet them. 

‘Didn’t think you were on duty, Guv,’ the man said, glancing at Alex and Clarke as they emerged from the Mercedes. Alex recognized him as someone she’d seen on and off at Fenchurch East.

‘I’m not, Hales,’ Gene said, checking his gun. ‘But I want this bastard nicked and in the cells tonight. And if you want a job done…’

‘Do it yourself,’ Hales said, smiling grimly. ‘He’s definitely in there,’ he nodded back towards the darkened building. ‘One of my lads saw him go in about half an hour ago and he hasn’t come out.’

‘You sure?’ Clarke asked.

‘We’ve got the building pretty well surrounded, sir,’ Hales said primly.

‘Any sign of the girl?’ Alex asked.

Hales looked at her and smiled. ‘DI Drake, I thought you’d transferred, ma’am. Good to see you. And no, no sign of her.’

‘Right,’ Gene said, looking around the small group clustered around the Mercedes. ‘Bolly, you and Clarke go around to the right. Sergeant Hales and my good self’ll take the left. Uniform, keep up positions out ‘ere. Don’t want ‘im slipping away.’

He glared around the group to make sure everyone knew what they were supposed to do, then grabbed a torch from Hales and headed off towards the building. 

Clarke looked over at Alex, surprised to see a faint smile on her face. ‘Something funny?’ he asked.

‘What? No, sorry. Shall we?’ she said brightly, taking her own torch from one of the uniforms and leading the way towards the right of the building.

*

Their search proved fruitless and they made their way further inside. 

As they moved through what had clearly been a canteen when the factory was fully operational, Alex became aware of Clarke sending her looks out of the corner of his eye. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘I’d heard you’d transferred too,’ he said, ‘I was just wondering what made you come back?’

She glanced at him. ‘Well…’ she paused, realizing she didn’t know the man’s first name. 

‘Liam,’ he supplied.

‘Liam, how long have you been at Fenchurch East?’

‘Classic evasion tactic, answering a question with a question,’ he said, offering her a smile. ‘About six weeks.’

‘You would have started just after I left then?’

‘I think so. I think I arrived the night you left, actually. I was under the impression it was all a bit… rushed.’

Alex snorted her amusement at that. ‘I realized once I’d left that this was where I needed to be, I suppose.’ She smiled, remembering something Ray had said, the first day she’d met him. ‘It might not seem like it now, but you’ll see eventually that where the Guv is, is the best place to be.’

Clarke opened his mouth to respond but Alex raised a hand for silence. They’d reached a door. In the silence, they could both hear small sounds from within, as though someone was pacing up and down. 

Clarke raised his gun and nodded to Alex, who threw the door open. 

*

Gene was searching a large office on the other side of the building when he heard a loud crash. He thumbed his radio, already heading towards the sound. ‘Drake? Clarke? What’s goin’ on?’

When no answer was forthcoming, he broke into a run, hearing Hales radio through to the uniformed officers outside, telling them to hold the line.

They reached a door with a sign proclaiming that it led to the kitchen. Gene tried the handle, only to find it was locked. He stepped back and kicked at it, forcing the door inwards. 

He entered the room and glanced around. Alex was standing on the other side of the room, her hands held above her head, weapon on the floor. Clarke was lying unconscious on the floor. He followed Alex’s line of sight and spotted Carlisle aiming a gun at her, his hands none too steady. 

‘Drop it, Carlisle,’ he growled, his eyes flicking from the man to Alex, checking her over for injury.

‘Drop  _ yours _ , copper. Or I’ll shoot her in the ‘ead. You know I don’t ‘ave a problem hurting pretty girls like her.’

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but before she could draw breath a muzzle flared in the darkness behind Carlisle. He fell and Gene spun, looking for the shooter. Another shot was fired and she saw Gene go down, watching the world fall apart in slow motion. 


	4. As Though Nothing Could Fall

Sergeant Hales was off, shouting into his radio for backup and an ambulance. Alex moved towards Carlisle, taking his pulse and kicking his gun away as she felt his heartbeat fluttering in his throat. 

From his position over by the door, Gene groaned. Alex felt relief burn through her as he rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position. 

She pressed her hands to Carlisle’s wound. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, feeling her voice catch in her throat.

‘’m fine, Bolly. Just a graze. Wasn’t ready and it knocked me off me feet.’ He pulled himself into a sitting position, giving her a brief nod before transferring his gaze to Clarke’s prone form. ‘What ‘appened to ‘im?’ 

‘He came in first, Carlisle hit him with a serving tray, I think.’ Alex said.

Gene pulled himself to his feet and yanked his radio out of his pocket. ‘Hales. Found our shooter yet?’

‘No luck, Guv,’ Hales responded. ‘He seems to have disappeared into the basement level.’

‘Fanbloodytastic,’ Gene muttered. He moved to Alex’s side. ‘He gonna live, Bolls?’

‘I think so,’ she murmured. ‘Are you sure you’re-‘

But Gene had spotted the ambulance crew. ‘Oi! You lot. In ‘ere. Man’s been knocked out and this bastard’s been shot.’

Alex stood, allowing the ambulance crew to take over. ‘You should let them give you the once over too, Guv.’

‘Not ‘avin’ this lot pawing over me, Bolly. Going to see how the bloody hell uniform let our shooter get away.’

*

Alex walked out of the building alongside a now conscious – and very sheepish – DI Clarke. As they reached the ambulance alongside the stretcher carrying Carlisle, they spotted Gene leaning against the Mercedes, taking a long gulp from his hipflask. 

‘I’ll go with Carlisle,’ Clarke said. 

Alex raised her eyebrows and offered a semi-sarcastic, ‘Thanks.’ She walked over to Gene and opened her mouth to speak. 

‘You look knackered, Drake. Let’s get you ‘ome,’ he said, lighting a cigarette and climbing into the car. 

‘Home?’ she asked, realizing as he said it how tired she really was. 

‘Yeah. Flat’s still empty. New owner still lets us use it from time to time.’

‘Us?’ she said, walking around the car and sliding into the passenger seat. 

‘Well,’ he said, starting the engine with a roar. ‘Me. When I’ve ‘ad a skin full. ‘

*

When they pulled up outside a familiar Italian wine bar Alex stole a glance up at the sign. ‘Franco’s?’

‘Cousin of Luigi’s,’ Gene said, getting out of the car and shutting the door. He threw the keys across the roof of the car at her. 

‘Guv?’

‘Keys to the flat are on there. Do  _ not _ take that as permission to take the Merc for a quick spin.’

She flashed a grin at him. ‘But where are you going?’

‘Station,’ he said, lighting a cigarette. ‘Got some stuff I want to check up on.’

‘It’s 5am! Can’t it wait a few hours?’

‘Keep yer knickers on, I’ll be five minutes.’

Alex watched him stalk over to the station and disappear inside before heading up the stairs to her old flat. 

She drew in a deep breath before opening the door, uncertain at what she might find. During her time here she’d come to like the flat and wasn’t sure how she’d react if it was no longer the place she knew.

Opening the floor and entering the flat, she was struck immediately with a sense of relief. The hallway at least looked as though she’d never left, her jackets were still hanging on the hooks by the door. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up. 

She moved around the flat, opening cupboards and drawers. The wardrobe still contained her eighties clothes, hanging alongside the men’s shirts that had been there when she arrived. She ran her hand over her clothes, revelling in the feel of the eighties fabrics and smiling to herself. 

When she walked back into the living room Gene was standing in the centre of it, still wearing his coat and gloves, cigarette in hand. She watched him open his hipflask and take a pull of scotch. 

‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said, ‘it’s all still here.’

He nodded once, glancing around the room. ‘New owner asked me to clear it out. Haven’t got round to it yet.’

She watched him take a drag on the cigarette as he dropped his flask back into his pocket and was again struck by the familiarity of his movements. She drew in a breath. She’d  _ missed _ him. Missed the physicality of him, the contradiction of him. The thug with artist’s hands. The hard man with the burning morality. Her angry angel. 

‘Rude to stare, Bollykecks,’ the man in question said, moving towards the window and throwing his cigarette out. ‘Right,’ she said, turning around and clapping his gloved hands together, wincing slightly as the impact jarred his shoulder. ‘I’m gonna get off ‘ome. You get yourself to bed, Alex.’

Alex tilted her head to one side, moving across the room until she was standing in front of him. ‘Off,’ she said, tapping the lapel of his coat.

He drew himself up and looked down at her through narrowed eyes. 

‘You were shot,’ she said, nodding at his arm.

‘Grazed.’

‘I know you, Gene Hunt,’ she said softly, moving around him and sliding his coat from his shoulders. ‘If it was only a graze I’d never have heard the end of it on the drive over here.’

‘Stop fussin’, woman! It’s late.’ 

‘It’s early. And you're not going anywhere tonight. ‘

‘Blimey. Didn't realise I was on a promise. ‘

She ignored him, sliding her hand into the pocket of his coat, retrieving his hipflask and handing it to him. ‘Take your jacket off, Gene.’

He sighed theatrically and put the flask down on the table, shrugging out of his suit jacket and folding it over a chair. Alex felt her mouth set into a firm line as she saw the blood staining the white of his shirt from his shoulder to his elbow. 

‘When will we be able to question Carlisle?’ she asked, moving to the kitchenette and retrieving her first aid kit from under the sink. 

‘He regained consciousness at the hospital. Docs reckon we’ll be able to question ‘im tomorrow afternoon. I do  _ not  _ need a bloody nursemaid.’

‘Shirt,’ she said. He glared at her. ‘ _ Shirt _ .’

When he didn’t move she set the first aid kit down on the table and moved to stand in front of him, raising her hands and loosening his tie. He watched her through hooded eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it free from his trousers and gently pushing it off his shoulders. 

She winced slightly as she uncovered the wound on his shoulder. ‘Bit more than a graze,’ she muttered.

‘s’nothin’,’ he responded his voice just as quiet. 

She rolled her eyes and went to work with the antiseptic, grimacing as he stiffened under her touch. ‘Sorry. What was in her statement?’

‘Moira Allen’s?’

‘Mm. I’m assuming the brothel activity isn’t the only thing?’

‘You’d be right there, Bolls. Couple of girls went missing. Moira went to Carlisle to ask him about it, ‘e slapped ‘er about a bit. She came to us.’

‘And we let her go.’ Alex said quietly pulling a clean bandage from the first aid kit and winding it around his arm. 

Gene glared at her. ‘I told you –‘

‘I know it wasn’t your fault, Gene,’ she said, tucking the end of the bandage in and pinning it with a safety pin. He nodded, somewhat mollified. ‘So what do we do?’

‘We?’ he turned to face her. ‘You keep sayin’ that, Alex.’

‘I told you, I’m here to stay.’

‘Hmm. Right.’ He grunted, retrieving his shirt and pulling it on. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she packed the first aid kit away, watching as he shoved his tie into his jacket pocket. ‘Don’t go,’ she said quietly, surprising herself.

‘Sam woke up,’ she said, keeping her eyes on the first aid kit.

He glanced over at her. ‘What?’

‘He woke up in a hospital bed. Long enough to be discharged, to go back to work.’

‘Sam Tyler was-‘

‘He got his life back, Gene. But he came back. He chose to come back here.’ She looked over at him finally, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to stop herself reaching out for him. ‘D’you know why?’

‘Cartwright. Soppy sod.’ 

Alex smiled. ‘Yes, Annie was a big part of the reason. He said he felt more alive here than he ever had before. 

‘Why'd you come back, Alex?’

‘You know why.’

He nodded, his lips forming a pout as he glanced away from her then back again. He sighed. ‘I can’t give you what you want, Alex. I can’t give you your little girl back.’

‘I know that,’ she whispered. ‘But I told you I couldn’t stay there, Gene. What is the point of moving on when I’m not finished here? To be there alone-‘

‘You weren’t alone,’ he said.

‘I was away from Molly. Away from you.’ 

He looked down at his boots, uncomfortable. She stepped forwards, invading his personal space and forcing him to look up at her. Blue eyes searched hazel, flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again. 

She tilted her head, inviting him to move closer. She shivered as his hands came up to frame her face, long fingers sliding into her hair as he pulled her against him, ducking his head and pressing his lips to hers.


	5. And That is a Fact

The station was busy, packed with people just on the edge of recognition. People she felt shouldn’t have been there. Alex raised a hand to her head, feeling the headache start, a dull ache in her forehead. She walked into CID, noting that the faces around her seemed… blurred somehow, their presence unfamiliar.

The room was busier than she’d ever seen it, more people crammed into it than there could possibly be desk space for. She looked over at Gene’s office and was disquieted to note it was dark, the blinds drawn. 

Some sixth sense propelled her across the room, ignoring the people who jostled her as though she didn’t exist. She pushed open the door to Gene’s office, stepping into the darkened room and closing the door behind herself with a soft click. 

The room was coated in dust and the air was…. Stale. Unlived in. Dead. She moved around the desk, running her fingers through the dust. The dust that should not under any circumstances be there. 

There were only two things on the normally cluttered desk. Warrant cards. Both in the name of Gene Hunt. She picked them up, feeling the leather keenly in her fingers for a moment before watching them crumble into dust in her hands. 

She gasped, brushing the dust off on her jeans and stepping back from the desk. As she did so, she noticed a shadow on the floor by the door. Something that hadn’t been there when she came in. 

She drew a deep breath and moved around the desk. The floor was sticky with a dark substance. She knelt down and touched her fingertips to the stain, already knowing what she’d find. 

Blood. Staining her fingertips and now her hands were drenched in it. Bright red blood. 

‘Alex.’ The voice was soft, but insistent. Sounded familiar too, but she was unable to look up from the blood covering her hands. 

‘Alex?’ the voice was more strident now, annoyed. And she  _ knew _ that voice, but knew the blood meant she couldn’t be hearing it. 

‘Bolly!’

Alex awoke, feeling as though she’d only closed her eyes for a moment. For a moment, she was completely lost. The familiarity of the room seemed tied in somehow with the familiarity of the dream. But the dream was gone. And the voice… the voice was…

‘Good of you to join me in the land of the conscious, Bolls.’ 

Gene was standing over her, fully clothed and looking highly amused for someone operating on less than a couple of hours sleep. 

‘What time is it?’ she asked, pulling herself upright. She was wearing her silk nightshirt, barely buttoned before they fell into bed finally. 

‘Half eight. You’re very nearly late for your first day back. Better get yer knickers on, I ‘ear your boss is a right bastard.’

‘My boss, Mr Hunt, knows I was out at a crime scene until the very early hours of the morning. And he knows I can’t begin questioning our suspect until this afternoon.’ She rose up until she was on her knees on the bed and pulled him closer by his tie. ‘ _ And _ he knows that not only did he keep me out for most of the night, he then kept me up very late once we  _ did _ make it home.’

‘And he still expects you to be in on time? Bastard.’ 

‘That’s two  _ bastards _ before nine AM, Gene Hunt. What  _ are _ we going to do about that mouth of yours?’

‘Can think of a few things, Lady Bolls. Can think of a few uses for yours an’ all,’ he growled, sliding his hands under the shirt as he kissed her. 

She shifted backwards on the bed, pulling him along by his tie, smirking against his mouth as she felt him climb onto the bed. She wound her arms around his neck, raking her short nails though his hair and giggling as he moaned, dropping his face to her neck. 

He pushed her onto her back, forcing her hands above her head, running his tongue down her neck as he pressed himself against her. 

Just as she managed to get her hands free, the phone beside the bed rang, startling them both. Gene sighed and dropped his forehead to her chest even as he reached out and grabbed the phone. 

‘Hunt,’ he snapped, earning himself an eye-roll from Alex. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ He slammed the phone back into its cradle and looked back at Alex, who was regarding him with a look of deepest amusement. ‘What?’

‘Just how much time have you spent here since I’ve been gone?’

‘Never you mind. Come on,’ he got to his feet, pulling her upwards with him. ‘Get your arse in gear. Moira Allen’s just turned up in CID. Wanna get there before Captain Concussion tries to question her. You and me in the interview room, Bolly, just like old times.’ He tucked his shirt in and cast a glance over her. 

She smirked. ‘Duty calls, DCI Hunt.’

‘As bloody always, DI Drake. See you over the road, quick as you like.’

*

When Alex walked into CID half an hour later she was struck by a distinct sense of déjà vu. Something about… blood? She’d had the same sensation while she was getting dressed, when she transferred her warrant card from one pair of jeans to another. She paused in the doorway, wanting to explore the feeling.

DCI Hunt, it appeared, had other ideas. 

‘DI Drake. Thought you were waitin’ for a written invitation.’ He was standing outside his office, addressing the room. 

‘What?’ she asked, shaking her head to clear it. 

‘Nice of you to join us, Bolls.’ He turned his attention back to the room at large. ‘Some of you will remember my esteemed lady colleague, ‘ere. For those of you who don’t, this is DI Drake. She’ll be stoppin’ ‘ere for a while yet.’ His eyes met Alex’s briefly and she nodded. ‘Right,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘Clarke, I want you chasing down any known associates of Daniel Carlisle. Take DS Glenn with you. The rest of you know what you should be doing. Drake you’re with me.’ He strode out of the room, sweeping Alex up in his wake. 

‘Anything I should know about Moira Allen?’ she asked as they walked side by side to the interview room.

‘Not really. Gobby tart. Got on the wrong side of ‘er pimp boyfriend.’

‘Prostitute?’

‘No thanks, bit early.’

‘Is  _ she _ a prostitute, Guv?’ Alex tried again.

‘Don’t think so. Think she works in a bookies.’

‘Do you think she’s involved?’ Alex asked as they stopped outside the interview room.

‘Million dollar question, Drake,’ he said, raising his eyebrows at her. ‘S’why I brought you along.’ He opened the door and swept out a hand. ‘Shall we?’

*

An hour and a half later, they walked back out of the interview room, Gene beckoning for a WPC to go in and see to Moira, now in tears.

After the young woman had been led away, Gene turned to Alex. ‘Well?’

‘Well I don’t think she’s involved, if that’s what you’re asking. But I do think she knows  _ something _ .’

‘What?’ 

‘Couldn’t say, Guv.’

‘Right,’ he checked his watch. ‘Couple of hours before we can go and question Carlisle. Let’s go and see what that lot ‘ave come up with, shall we?’ He pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against and headed back towards CID.

‘Who’s on the team now?’ Alex asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up but needing more information.

‘That you know? Poirot and Bammo’re still ‘ere. New DS – Martin Glenn and a new WDC – Sheena Sawyer. Our friendly CID plod is PC Harper, nice kid. You met Clarke.’

She grabbed his arm, stopping him and turning him around to face her. ‘Is he… like me?’

He glanced down at her hand, back up at her face. ‘Don’t think there’s anyone like you, Bolls.’

‘You know what I mean, Gene.’

‘Yes I do, and I don’t know. I think so. But listen to me, Alex; you can’t say anythin’ to him. Whatever he’s here for is his problem. We have scum to catch.’ He held her gaze. ‘Clear?’

‘Crystal clear, Guv,’ she responded brightly.

‘Good girl.’ He hesitated and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, the idea sending shivers of remembered pleasure tingling down her spine. But he moved away, pushing through the doors of CID and barking out commands. 


	6. We Can Be Us

Alex rose from her desk, clutching the case file tightly. Tea. She needed tea. Truth be told she really just needed to get away from the incident room for a while. They were due at the hospital to question Daniel Carlisle in an hour and she'd been trying to cobble together a psychological profile but had spent a good fifteen minutes looking around CID, trying to acquaint herself with the new team.

'Bolly, there you are.' Gene was making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen, leaning against the cupboard with his long legs crossed at the ankle, waiting for the kettle to boil. 'Fancy a brew?'

She nodded and he turned, pulling a mug out of the cupboard and dropping a tea bag into it before resuming his former position. 'Bit o' light reading?' he asked, nodding at the case file in her hands.

She pulled a chair out and sat down at the small kitchen table, dropping the file on the table and opening it. 'Light's the word, Guv. There's not much here.'

'We don't know much,' he shrugged. 'Yet. I 'ave a feelin' Carlisle'll be only too 'appy to chat to us now 'e's been shot.'

'Mmm. Is this a direct transcript of Moira Allen's statement?'

'From the tape. Why?'

'Some lingual inconsistencies.'

'Don't know if you noticed, she's not exactly Shakespeare.'

Alex looked up at him, wryly amused. 'I don't mean her grammar, Guv. Well… I do, actually. But it's not incorrect, just inconsistent pronoun uses. He, they, them…'

'I know what a ruddy pronoun is, Bolly!' he snapped. 'What's the problem?'

'She can't seem to decide-'

'She was frightened for 'er life,' he said mildly, turning away from her to pour boiling water into the cups. 'You all right with all this, Alex?' he asked quietly.

'How d'you mean?'

'Saw you in there,' he said, jerking his head back towards CID. 'Deer in the 'eadlights is the description that springs to mind.'

She rose, retrieving the milk from the fridge and moving to hand it to him. He turned unexpectedly and they ended up standing too close together, the fabric of her shirt touching his. 'It's just a lot to take in, Gene,' she said quietly. 'I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.'

'Oh I always worry about yer, Alex,' he said, the low, rough quality to his voice serving to heighten the intimate atmosphere between them, rather than dispel it.

'Guv!' WDC Sawyer burst into the kitchen, shattering the moment quite effectively. 'Super's on the phone for you. Sorry.' The young woman's eyebrows shot into her hairline, her face turning bright red with embarrassment.

Gene turned away, tipping milk into his tea and snagging a spoon from the sink before stalking off in the direction of his office.

WDC Sawyer looked at Alex, who smiled brightly at her. 'We've not been properly introduced, have we? I'm Alex Drake.'

' Sheena Sawyer,' the young woman said, shaking Alex's proffered hand. 'I remember you used to work here,' she said, smiling. 'Back when I was still in uniform.'

'That's right. You must have known Shaz Granger?' Alex asked.

Sheena smiled. 'Yeah. Was great what happened to her, wasn't it? We were all so happy for her.'

Alex nodded, alarmed that she'd not thought to ask Gene what was supposed to have happened to the others.

'Shaz always said it was great working with a female DI,' the younger woman said, when it became apparent that Alex wasn't going to contribute to the conversation. 'I'm really looking forward to working with you, ma'am.'

'You too, Sheena. Listen, about what you just-'

'Don't you worry about that, ma'am. I think it's… nice. I've only been on the team for a month and even I can tell he needs someone.' The WDC blushed again, realizing what she'd said. 'Um… I didn't mean-'

Alex laughed and patted the younger woman on the shoulder. 'Don't worry about it. Tea?' Sheena nodded, clearly still mortified. 'What made you join CID, Sheena?' Alex asked, switching the kettle back on as she stirred milk into her own tea.

'The Guv,' Sheena said, smiling. 'I was part of a team assigned to a drugs bust he was running about five weeks ago. Helped him bring down a big dealer.' She grinned up at Alex, glowing with pride. 'He said he'd already let one brilliant WDC go and wasn't about to lose another. Course, then he said if I told anyone he'd said that he'd stamp on my–'

'Pretty little head,' Alex finished, smiling.

'Is this the Carlisle case?' Sheena asked, glancing down at the notes on the table.

Alex nodded. 'I'm trying to kick start a psychological profile before questioning him.'

'I think that's all really interesting… that psychology stuff.'

Alex tilted her head to one side. 'I could show you, if you like.'

'Would you mind?'

'Of course not. Would help to talk it through with someone actually. DCI Hunt's not exactly a great believer in psychology.'

Half an hour later, Gene leaned into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows at the sight of his two female officers heavily engrossed in a discussion on psychology. 'Blimey. What's this, a mother's meeting?'

Sheena shot to her feet, worried that a reprimand was on the way. Alex merely looked up, narrowing her eyes at him.

'Back to your desk, Sawyer, there's a good girl. Drake, get yer coat. Time to see what this bastard 'as to say for 'imself.'

*

'What happened to them? To Shaz and the others?'

'What do you mean, what 'appened. You bloody know where they are.' Gene barely glanced at her as he wove the Merc through the lunchtime traffic, but she saw the concern in his eyes, heard it under the harsh tone of his voice. 'You're not losin' your mind on me are you, Bolls?'

'No, no, I know what happened. I mean what's  _ supposed  _ to have happened to them all? Everyone thought I transferred out…'

'Raymondo's part of some squad up north combating football hooliganism. Shaz lost her senses and married Christopher. They've moved back to Manchester to be near 'is family. Shaz is a WDC now.'

Alec looked over at him, a gentle smile touching her lips.

'What?'

'Nothing,' she assured him, keeping her gaze on him.

He grunted, clearly unimpressed. 'If you can reserve your adoring gazes for later on, DI Drake, we've got a pimp to question. We're 'ere.'

*

They strode through the hospital shoulder to shoulder, not exchanging a word until they reached Daniel Carlisle's room. The PC outside let them in and Gene flashed his warrant card at the man on the bed.

Seeing it, Alex was filled with a strange sense of dread that she couldn't place. She shook her head and showed her own identification.

The man sitting up in the bed was in his mid-twenties, red haired and heavy set. Gene loomed over him, offering him the full force of his glare.

Before he could open his mouth, Alex spoke. 'He's on strong painkillers, Guv.'

'Right, so I'll keep it simple. Where are Tina Eastridge and Martha Johnson and who shot you, Carlisle?'

'I don't know.'

'Oh you don't know. How original. You think that up on yer own or did you 'ave someone 'elp?'

'I really don't know who shot me!' Carlisle shot back. 'An' I don't know where the girls are! I swear!'

'Don't come the innocent bystander with me, Carlisle. You held a gun to my DI's head.'

'I was scared!'

'You bloody want to be, sunshine!'

Carlisle laughed. 'You think I'm scared of  _ you _ ?'

'You should be,' Alex said sternly. 'You're not only implicated in the disappearance of two young women, but you have assaulted two police officers and your own girlfriend.'

'Moira? I never touched Moira! I wouldn't!'

Gene leaned closer. 'I don't believe you.'

'Ask anyone! I love Moira. I'm scared for my life 'ere!'

*

Gene stalked out of the hospital and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke up towards the afternoon sky. He glanced over at Alex.

'He's definitely afraid of something.'

'I should bloody well 'ope so! He smacked one of my DIs with a dinner tray and held a gun to your head.'

'No, I don't think that was bravado, Gene. He's not afraid of us.'

'Then what?'

'I don't know. A rival gang?'

'Bolly, look at 'im. That is not the man at the 'ead of a gang. He's a bottom feeder, plain and simple.'

'Maybe someone within his own organization, then? Someone higher up?'

Gene opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the squawking of his radio.

'Hunt,' he snapped.

'Guv,' Clarke's voice came through the speaker. 'It's Moira Allen. She's disappeared.'


	7. Standing by the Wall

Alex shot a sidelong glance at Gene, wincing as he slammed the car around the final corner and against the kerb outside the station. He was undoubtedly furious. Incandescent, even. 

As he made to get out of the car, she reached out and rested a hand on his arm. ‘Gene -‘ 

‘Don’t, Alex,’ he growled. ‘When I find out which moron was responsible for lettin’ her wander out of here…’

‘Calm down-‘ she began, knowing it was a lost cause.

‘Calm down?’ he snapped incredulously, throwing the door open and getting out. She mirrored his actions, although she closed her door with considerably less force. ‘This is the second time they’ve let her disappear and I am not bloody happy!’ 

He locked the car and stormed into the station, radiating fury from every line in his body. Alex grimaced and followed him in. 

When she caught up with him, he was already in full flow, pacing up and down in front of his office like a caged animal, glaring at each and every officer under his command in turn. She watched him a moment, rolling her eyes at the sheer number of mixed metaphors the man was able to cram into a sentence. 

She really shouldn’t enjoy watching this, she knew. But deep down, a part of her always had. He was in his element here, at his most passionate. Well… his most publicly passionate in any case. She looked away, feeling herself start to blush. 

Unfortunately, Gene had been sweeping his gaze over the room at that moment and caught her sudden movement. ‘Something to say, DI Drake?’ he snapped. 

She snapped her gaze to his; terrified for one insane moment that he knew the direction her thoughts had taken. But no, he still looked furious. No hint of the smug look she knew would be in his eyes if he’d somehow read her mind. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘No, Guv.’

‘Good,’ he turned back to the room. ‘Poirot, take Sawyer and look for Moira while I think of a suitable punishment. Bammo – I want you to start knocking on doors near the brothels. Take Harper, he looks like he needs a walk. Mush. Bolls, my office.’ He turned on his heel and strode into his office, hanging his coat up and pouring himself a glass of scotch before sitting down.

Alex walked in and closed the door before walking around his desk and perching on the edge of it. She watched him take a sip of the scotch; closing his eyes as he swallowed and leaning his head back against his chair. 

‘Are you all right?’ she asked quietly. 

Blue eyes snapped open. ‘Course I’m all right, Drake,’ he said sternly. 

‘You look exhausted.’

‘Do I? And whose bloody fault is that?’ His expression softened slightly. ‘’s like breakin’ in a whole pack of dogs at once, Bolly,’ he grumbled. ‘Pissin’ all over the carpet and chasin’ the neighbour’s bloody cat.’

‘I don’t think Ray and Chris were ever particularly housebroken. Ray still chased everything in sight and Chris was liable to lick strangers’ faces at the drop of a hat.’

He snorted his amusement at that. ‘I need to find those girls, Alex.’

‘Uniform are combing through the warehouses near where we picked up Carlisle. You’ve got Bammo and Harper on door to door. We’re doing everything we can, Guv.’

‘Are we though? You ‘aven’t got any psychological insights?’

‘You really must be desperate,’ she smirked. 

He reached out and slid a hand up her leg. ‘You have no idea, sweetheart,’ he growled, his eyes glinting dangerously. 

She met his gaze and held it, knowing he’d be able to see the turn her thoughts had taken written all over her face. ‘You need to relax, Gene,’ she said, keeping her voice low to try to temper the tremor she could feel. 

There was a knock on the door behind her and it opened. Sighing, she turned to see the duty desk sergeant leaning in. Someone was standing behind him, surveying the empty office with an air of interest. 

‘Guv?’

Gene sat forward in his chair, bringing both hands up to rest on the desk in front of him. ‘Yes, Harry? What can I do for you?’

Harry Styles moved into the room, allowing the man behind him to follow. ‘May I introduce Simon Tremaine, the new Detective Sergeant assigned to CID?’ he turned to Tremaine. ‘This is DCI Gene Hunt and DI Alex Drake.’

Tremaine stepped forwards, smiling ingratiatingly and extending a hand to Gene. ‘DCI Hunt, you need no introduction, sir. It’s an honour to meet you. And to be working with you.’

Gene shook the man’s hand, raising his eyebrows at Alex. ‘Is it? Well, we’ll soon disabuse you of that notion, Sergeant. We were expecting you a week ago.’

Tremaine shook Alex’s hand and smiled at Gene again. ‘Sorry about that, sir. We were in the middle of a big case, you know how they can overrun.’

Gene nodded curtly. ‘Harry given you the tour, Simon?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You don’t ‘ave to call me  _ sir _ , Simon. Guv’ll do.’

‘Yes, sir... Guv. Um… if you don’t mind me asking, where’s the rest of the team?’

Alex saw a muscle in Gene’s jaw twitch in annoyance and decided to save the man. ‘We’re working on a case at the moment – they’re all out chasing up leads.’

‘I’ll get back to the desk,’ Harry muttered, nodding to Gene as he left.

‘’ere,’ Gene said, picking up his case file and tossing it across the desk at Tremaine. ‘Get caught up and man the phones for a bit. DI Drake’s buying me lunch.’ Alex looked at him, raising her eyebrows. ‘What? Oh. Right. We’ll ‘ave a bit of a debrief after lunch when the rest of the department’s resurfaced.’

He pulled his coat from the stand and stalked out of CID, leaving Tremaine to find himself a desk. Alex sent him a sympathetic smile before following Gene. 

‘What d’you think?’ she asked as they crossed the road, heading for the restaurant. 

‘Him?’ She nodded. ‘I reckon he’ll ‘ave chewed through Poirot’s magazine collection in the next half hour. Anyone would think I was running Battersea Dog’s ‘ome.’

She smirked. ‘You could have invited him to lunch you know, Guv,’ she said, allowing the barest hint of reproach to enter her voice. 

Gene lit a cigarette and looked over at her. ‘I bloody well couldn’t, Drake. I’m plannin’ to let you ramble on about whatever takes yer fancy while I catch a sneaky look down your top and eat my lunch in peace. Don’t want to ‘ave to worry about Simple Simon ruinin’ the ambiance.’

*

When they arrived back in CID an hour later, Clarke and DS Glenn were in CID chatting to Tremaine. 

Glenn looked up as Alex and Gene entered, Alex scooting over to her desk and Gene striding towards his office. ‘Guv! We’ve found something.’

‘I ‘ad every faith in you,’ Gene said insincerely as he moved into his office and hung his coat up. ‘Well?’ he demanded, re-emerging and fixing Glenn with a stare. 

‘It’s Moira Allen, sir. Her mum’s name is Allen.’

‘Bit weird for a bird, but it takes all sorts. Are you approachin’ a point, here, Martin? Or should I get comfortable?’

‘No – her mum’s maiden name is Allen. Moira was born before she married eleven years ago.’ Glenn said, giving Gene a significant look. 

Gene glanced at Alex but she carefully kept her eyes on the paperwork in front of her. ‘Are you going to tell me the ‘usband’s name, or am I supposed to guess?’

Clarke came to the younger man’s rescue. ‘His name’s Deighton, Guv. Lawrence Deighton.’

‘Lawrence bloody Deighton? The Lawrence Deighton?’ Gene asked. 

‘Who’s Lawrence Deighton?’ Alex piped up. 

‘Scum,’ Gene said, lacing his fingers behind his head and starting to pace. ‘Thoroughbred, gangland scum.’

‘It gets better, Guv,’ Clarke said.

Gene paused in his pacing and regarded the other man seriously. ‘Does it? Do tell.’

‘Deighton owns the warehouse we found Carlisle in.’

‘Of course he does. Don’t suppose you lot’ve found out who’s got the freehold on the knockin’ shops?’

‘Actually –‘ Tremaine said, raising his hand. He hastily pulled it back to his side when the others stared at him. ‘The leases for both addresses are in the name of one Lucille Deighton née Allen.’

‘Right,’ Gene said, relief that they were finally getting somewhere apparent in his tone. ‘Bolly – I want you to draw up one of those roadmaps you like so much.’

‘Mind maps,’ she corrected, rising and walking towards the whiteboard.

‘Whatever, get everythin’ down from-‘

The door burst open and Sawyer burst in, closely followed by a disturbed-looking Poirot. ‘Guv!’

‘I’m standing just here Sheena. No need to shout. What?’

‘We’ve found Martha Johnson, Guv. She’s dead.’ 


	8. I'll Drink All the Time

They stood in the mortuary, looking down at the body on the slab. Alex's gaze kept flicking to Gene's face, taking in the tension in his jaw, the steel in his eyes. He hadn't spoken since they'd entered the room and seen Martha Johnson's battered and bloodied corpse.

'As you can see,' the pathologist was saying, 'she's been severely beaten.'

'Was there more than one assailant?' Alex asked.

The pathologist raised an eyebrow at her, impressed. 'Very good, Inspector. I believe there were two, perhaps three.'

'Did they use weapons?'

'It appears she was mostly attacked with fists and what looks like steel toe-capped boots. The blow that killed her was here,' he tilted the young woman's head to the side, indicating a livid bruise on her temple.

'Accident?' Clarke asked.

'I don't think so. It wasn't a glancing blow. Someone was very angry with this young lady.'

'Anything else you can tell us?' Alex asked.

The pathologist shook his head, pulling the sheet up to cover Martha Johnson's face.

Without a word, Gene turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Liam and Alex exchanged a look before hurrying after him.

'Guv!' Alex called. 'Where are you going?'

'To bring 'em in.'

'Who?' Clarke asked.

'Deighton and mummy dearest.'

'That's a dangerous move, Guv. ' Alex said. 'We could be putting Tina and Moira in danger.'

'Or they could already be dead.'

'Their own daughter?' Alex said.

'Lucille's daughter. Not Deighton's.'

'He wouldn't-' Clarke began.

'He bloody would. I know this man!' Gene stopped and spun, glaring at them.

'Gene-' Alex tried.

'No, Bolly. I know 'im. Moira was going to drop 'im right in it. 'e'd kill his own mother if 'e thought she was about to grass him up.' He turned and shoved the doors to CID open, storming into the room and heading for his office.

'Guv, I think she may be involved.' Alex called.

'Who?' Gene said, turning to glare at her. 'Martha Johnson? I think it's safe to say her involvement has ended, don't you?'

'Moira Allen. I think she's in on this.' Alex said, moving until she was standing just in front of him. She felt the rest of CID's attention turn to them, all pretence at actually working being swiftly dropped in favour of watching the entertainment.

'Well you've changed yer bloody tune. Few hours ago you thought she was innocent.'

'I said I thought she was hiding something.'

'Hiding something, yes. Involved, no.'

'Just think about it for a moment,' she pleaded. 'She came here to get your attention then disappeared. Then after we picked up Daniel Carlisle she reappears just long enough to find out we don't know anything, before disappearing again. Guv, I really think-'

'Well don't,' he snapped. 'We've been two steps behind these bastards the whole way and I am bloody sick of it.' He turned away and walked into his office, grabbing his coat before sweeping out of the room again. Alex stared after him for a moment before turning to Clarke.

'Liam, go with him please.' Clarke nodded and ran out after Gene. 'Simon come with me. We're going back to the hospital to question Daniel Carlisle again. Sheena, I'd like you to come too, I'd appreciate your insight,' she added, remembering the younger woman's help in going through the case file earlier in the day. 'The rest of you keep digging into the Deightons' lives.'

*

On the way to the hospital, Alex tried to raise Gene on the radio several times, trying to hide her frustration each time he failed to respond.

'Worrying that he's not responding,' Tremaine said, glancing at her from his place in the passenger seat, Alex having taken the rare opportunity to drive the pool car.

'Not really,' she snorted. 'I'm more surprised Liam isn't picking up to be honest.'

'Are you worried, ma'am?' Sheena asked tentatively.

'The Guv… sometimes he just needs to do  _ something _ …'

'I know how he feels,' Sheena said quietly and Alex remembered she'd been the one to find Martha Johnson's broken body.

'But that instinct of his,' Alex continued, needing to stress her point to the younger woman, 'It's not always right. He goes off half cocked and with no regard for protocol.' An image flashed through her mind. Gene's office. Empty and dark. Dust on the desk. Blood on the carpet. A feeling of desperation almost overwhelmed her before disappearing just as quickly as it had arrived.

'There's no denying he gets results though,' Simon said.

Alex glanced over at him, trying and failing to read his expression. 'It's still dangerous.'

'Well… yeah. But he looks after his own.' Simon must have caught the look she sent him as he hastened to add, 'That's what I heard, anyway.'

'But who looks after him?' Sheena asked quietly.

Alex said nothing, hating the fact that the younger woman had voiced the turn her thoughts had taken. 'We're here,' she said, turning into the hospital car park.

'What do you mean you don't know where he is?' The young PC gave her a terrified look, which Alex returned with a glare. 'You were supposed to be guarding him!'

'A doctor came and took him away for tests. He was unconscious.'

'Did it not occur to you to go with him?' Alex demanded.

'He was unconscious, ma'am,' the PC said apologetically. 'And I've been on duty for thirteen hours straight. I thought it would be ok.'

Alex sighed. 'Report to the station then go home. I'll have to tell DCI Hunt and if I were you I'd make myself scarce.'

The younger officer nodded and made to leave.

'Wait a moment,' Alex called. 'Give WDC Sawyer a description of the doctor before you leave.'

After questioning the ward staff it soon became apparent that not only did no such doctor work at the hospital, but also there had been no tests scheduled for Daniel Carlisle.

'Do you think they were in it together?' Tremaine asked as they returned to the car three hours later.

Alex got in and started the engine, shaking her head. 'I'm not sure. When we questioned Carlisle he seemed genuinely afraid. Almost as though…' she trailed off.

'As though what, ma'am?' Sheena asked.

Alex shook herself. 'Nothing. Just speculation really. What time is it?'

'Eight fifteen,' Simon said, glancing at his watch.

'Right. Let's get this heap back to the station and then I don't know about you,' Alex said, pulling the car out of the car park and into the evening traffic. 'But I could do with a drink.'

'Shall I try raising the Guv and DI Clarke again?' Simon asked.

'Don't bother,' Alex said. 'I think I know where they'll be.'

*

Alex walked into the Italian bistro and swept her gaze around the room, sighing when she realized she had only been half right. Liam was sitting at the back of the restaurant with Poirot and Harper, but Gene was nowhere to be seen.

She followed Sheena and Simon to the CID table but remained standing as they took their seats and accepted the drinks that were pushed towards them. She watched them a moment, her amusement and relief that this was still the same vying with the pang of sadness that swept through her as she thought of another time, another team. And the man who was conspicuous only by his absence.

Clarke looked up. 'We couldn't find the Deightons,' he said. 'Looks like they've gone to ground. We've got uniform searching but I'm not expecting them to turn anything up.' He took a long sip of his beer. 'How was your afternoon?'

'Carlisle's absconded,' Simon said. 'A "doctor" came and took him away about an hour before we got there.'

'And uniform let him?' Clarke said. 'Our fearless leader's slipping if they think they can get away with stuff like that.'

Alex gave him a sharp look, wondering at the bitterness she heard under his light tone. 'Where is DCI Hunt?'

Liam returned her sharp look with an amused one of his own, wordlessly calling her on her formal address. 'Left him in the station,' Liam said. 'He said he'd be over in a bit.'

'How long ago was that?' Alex asked.

''bout an hour.'

Alex glanced at the door and made up her mind. 'Be right back.'

'Have a seat, Alex,' Clarke said. 'He was like a bear with a sore head on the drive back over. Probably best to leave him to it.'

'I'll only be a minute.'

She left the trattoria, pulling her coat around herself and walking briskly towards the station as the cold air hit her. She walked past the Merc as she reached the station and reached out to trail a hand against the bonnet, finding it warm. Gene had obviously been out alone since he'd dropped Clarke off.

She headed up the stairs and into the station, tamping down the feeling of dread that fought it's way up her throat, lengthening her stride as she headed towards CID. There was nothing wrong, nothing unusual in Gene staying late, but she couldn't rid herself of the feeling. The need to see him burned through her.

She should have gone with him earlier. She would have done so before. Would have followed him out the door and down to the car, bickering all the way. Even after Ray had been promoted to Detective Inspector, they'd still partnered with one another, although she'd suspected at the time that had more to do with Gene trying to keep her away from Keats than anything else. The fact was that she knew why she had sent Liam after him this afternoon and wasn't particularly pleased about having to admit it to herself. They'd spent the night together and some part of her had needed distance from him. To test her presence in this world without him.

She walked into CID and was struck with a sense of déjà vu. The main room was dark, the only light coming from the wall lamp in Gene's office. The man himself was standing at the window with his back to the room. She moved through the incident room and stepped into his office, her gaze taking in the two thirds empty bottle of scotch on his desk and wondering how much of it he'd drunk tonight.

'Makin' a habit of sneakin' up on me, Bolls.' His voice was low, completely devoid of its usual force and he didn't turn as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the street below.

'Liam told me you couldn't find the Deightons.'

'You know, Alex,' he said, his voice losing the subtly teasing tone it had held. 'I really don't want a chat about this right now.'

Unperturbed by his lack of enthusiasm, she continued. 'Daniel Carlisle-'

'I know. Moronic bloody plod came back 'ere before runnin' off 'ome. Desk sergeant told me.' He turned finally, fixing her with a piercing look. 'Nice o' you to let me know.'

'You weren't on your radio!'

'Wasn't  _ answerin _ '. Doesn't mean I wasn't  _ listenin _ ',' he snapped, knocking back the remaining scotch and reaching for the bottle to refill it. 'Went over to the hospital when I got back. Spoke to them. The man who took Carlisle works for Lawrence Deighton.'

'You think Carlisle was taken?'

'Looks that way.'

'So you don't think he's involved?'

'Oh, he's involved all right. Only question is how involved. And we won't know that till we find the bastard. Uniform're looking now. There was a sighting of 'im near those warehouses where we picked 'im up, but they've not seen hide nor bloody hair of him since.'

'The team are in Luigi's,' Alex began.

'Franco's,' he corrected.

'Whatever. You should be there. They're your team, Gene.'

He lit a cigarette, narrowing his eyes at her through the smoke. ' _ They _ are  _ not _ my team,' he said flatly.

'Gene…'

He sighed. 'Just give me a minute to be a miserable bastard in peace, will yer Bolls? 's been a long day. I'll come over in a bit.'

She narrowed her eyes, wanting to say something more - to ignore his blatant dismissal - but stopped herself, taking in the fatigue in his posture, the resignation in his eyes.

'I'll be out there,' she said, nodding towards her desk. 'We can go over together.'

'Nah, you get on, love,' he said, sitting at his desk and pulling a file closer. 'You look like you could do with a drink.'

She shot a pointed glance at the bottle of scotch which he just as pointedly ignored. Sighing, she admitted defeat. 'If you're not over in an hour I'm coming back to get you.'

'Right you are, DI Bossy-Knickers.'

*

The next hour passed pleasantly enough, the rest of the team content to lose themselves in meaningless banter while Alex brooded over her wineglass, one eye on the door. Occasionally she felt their attention drift to her but they mostly left her alone. After an hour and ten minutes, however, Liam moved around the table to the seat opposite her.

'Penny for 'em?' he said, quirking his lips into a half smile.

Alex gave a brief smile in return. 'Not worth as much as all that I'm afraid.' She glanced down at her wineglass before draining it. 'Sorry. I'm not very good company tonight.'

'That's ok,' Liam said. 'I actually wanted to ask you something. The Guv-'

'What about him?' Alex asked when he hesitated for slightly too long.

'He's got… he's got a fearsome reputation,' Liam began slowly. 'I mean, from what I've gathered in the short time since I… transferred.' He cleared his throat. 'I was just wondering… I mean I'm probably well out of order here but you and him seem to have different ideas on policing. I was just wondering why you came back. Why you  _ chose _ to come back.'

Alex stared at him a moment, wondering at the meaning behind his words. When she spoke, the words came slowly. 'Gene Hunt is a brilliant copper. He's got a very good insight into the way people work, he's a brilliant tactician, even if he does just think that's all instinct…'

'No doubt,' Liam said quickly, raising his hands defensively. 'But… you're very different, aren't you? He's all… guts and glory. Heroic posturing…'

'That's not it,' Alex said, shaking her head. 'We want the same things. We want the streets safe. We want justice for people who can't get it for themselves. We believe we can make a difference, otherwise we wouldn't be coppers.'

'But he must drive you mad? I mean, why'd you transfer out in the first place otherwise?'

'Is something bothering you, Liam?' Alex asked, needing to deflect the question.

'I was almost glad we didn't find the Deightons today,' he admitted. 'If we had… I really don't know what he would have done.'

Alex opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a waitress arriving at the table and depositing a large tray of drinks. She glanced at the clock behind the bar and decided that Gene had had enough time. She rose, pulling her coat from the back of her chair and slipping it on.

Liam reached out and grabbed her hand. 'I hope I didn't offend you, Alex,' he said quietly.

She smiled. 'Not at all. I'm just a bit tired. Going to turn in for the night. See you in the morning.'

She walked up the stairs, intending to storm the station and drag him out by his tie if she had to. That particular mental image made her smirk, thinking of the very different situation they'd been in this morning. She dragging him back to bed by his tie, his fervent response…

'You're looking 'appy, Bolly. Franco must not be serving the same vinegar Luigi did.'

Startled, she looked up to find the object of her musings leaning against his car, amusement dancing in his eyes. 'I was thinking about you, actually,' she said, suppressing a grin when she saw embarrassment flash through his eyes.

It was quickly masked, replaced with a cocky smirk. 'Dirty mare.'

'Why do you assume I was thinking about… that?' she asked, stepping into his personal space, feeling his warmth against the front of her body.

He leaned down, bringing with him the warm scent of scotch. 'You gonna tell me you weren't, Bolly?' he asked in a low voice.

'I …' her voice didn't seem to want to function properly. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and tried again. 'I wasn't.'

'Liar,' he growled, his breath hot in her ear.

She shivered and turned her face towards his, catching his lips with her own as her hand snaked up his body to slide into his hair, pulling him closer. He kissed her languidly, his tongue stroking into her mouth as he pulled her closer, allowing her to press him against the Merc.

When they broke apart for air, Alex kept her fingers in his hair, keeping his forehead resting against hers. 'Are you going in?' she asked. 'Or shall we go upstairs?'

He straightened and her hand slipped from his head, coming to rest against his chest. 'Neither,' he said. 'Got a tip off, need to go an' meet a snout.'

'Oh,' she said, momentarily nonplussed. 'I'll come with you.'

'Best I go on me own, Bolls. Bit of an unsavoury character.'

'Well, yes. But I put up with you anyway.' She smirked. 'You're not going on your own.'

''m a big boy, Bolly. Can take care of meself. You, on the other 'and, look about ready to drop. Get some kip. Want that ridiculous brain of yours in tip top condition come the morning.' He handed her the key ring containing keys to the flat, now minus the keys to his car.

'Will you be back later?' she asked, hating the need to ask the question.

'It's late…'

'It's not that late.'

He considered her for a moment, an unfathomable expression on his face, and then looked down at his boots. 'It'll be a lot later on. Don't want to wake yer.'

'Gene, it's perfectly ok if you don't want to-' she began, knowing it wasn't and fighting down her discomfort at admitting it to herself, let alone letting him know.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers briefly. 'I'll see what I can do,' he said. 'But I'm not coming back 'ere if it's too late. Don't want to disturb your beauty sleep. I 'ave a feeling I'll need somethin' nice to look at tomorrow.'

She narrowed her eyes at him and slapped him on the chest, before stepping back. He smirked and turned, opening the driver's door and climbing in. 'Get inside, woman. It's bloody brass monkeys out 'ere,' he admonished, starting the car and pulling away from the kerb with a roar of the engine.

Alex stared after the taillights of the car for a moment before turning and heading up to the flat, suddenly hit with the full force of her lack of sleep.


	9. You Can Be Mean

Alex awoke, knowing before she even opened her eyes that something was different. Wrong. She was lying on a sofa and that definitely wasn't right. She'd gone to bed, hadn't she?

She remembered getting into bed –  _ falling _ into bed – and in any case, this didn't feel like her sofa. It was harder, the fabric worn and harsh against her skin. She opened her eyes, blinking in shock as the room came into focus and she recognized the back room of the Railway Arms.

Nelson was sitting in the wicker chair, watching the television intently.

'How can I be here?' Alex asked, sitting up and feeling the panic rise. 'Nelson?'

When the barman didn't respond, Alex rose and walked around him until she was standing in front of him. He gave no acknowledgement that he knew she was there, just continued to watch the screen.

'A dream, then,' Alex murmured, turning her attention to the television screen, raising an eyebrow when she saw it was just static on screen. 'Never anything on, is there?' she remarked dryly, sitting back down on the sofa.

She sat up as she heard Gene speak.

' _ You know you are really trying my patience, Smallbrook. Where are they?' _

' _ You want to act with a bit more respect, Mr Hunt.' _

The screen cleared, resolving itself into an image of Gene Hunt, standing in a dingy office, toe to toe with a giant of a man. Not that the man was especially tall, Alex realized. He was about Gene's height, maybe an inch taller, but in other respects, he was just… enormous. Gene himself was by no means a small man, but standing in front of this thug, he looked almost slight.

' _ I find it 'ard to respect people 'oo drag me out in the middle of the night for nothin'. Little foible I 'ave.' Gene growled. _

'' _ ad a better offer, did you?' the man sneered. 'Nah. You just want to know where them girls are, don't ya, Mr Hunt? Already lost one of 'em.' Smallbrook tutted. 'Careless.' _

_ Gene reached out and grabbed the man's collar, shoving him against a wall and cracking his head against it. The man bent double as Gene released his collar and hit him in the stomach. _

_ He gave a wheezing laugh. 'You shouldn'ta done that, Mr Hunt.' _

_ Gene pitched forward as someone hit him from behind. _

Alex started forwards, even as the screen darkened. She whipped around to face Nelson. 'What was that? Is that happening now? Is he all right?'

To her surprise, he caught her eye. 'You should sleep, Alex. You're very tired.' He stood, moving towards her with strangely disjointed movements.

She backed away from him, shaking her head in denial as she felt herself overwhelmed with exhaustion. 'You can't be talking to me. I'm not really here. I can't be here.'

'Sleep, sister. Sleep while Mr Hunt faces some very bad people. He's all alone Alex. But you rest easy. You're safe here.'

'Send me back!' she demanded. But Nelson merely continued to advance, his head falling at an odd angle. 'Please! Send me back!'

As she stepped back further she felt an arm slide around her waist, pulling her back against the wall. No, not the wall. The bulk behind her was warm, breathing. A person.

She opened her eyes, knowing she was too tired to keep them open, and glanced down, seeing a familiar arm around her waist, the fingers of a very familiar hand twisting in the front of her nightshirt. Gene.

A dream, then. Just a dream. But even as sleep settled over her again, Alex's brain registered the scratches and the swollen knuckles of the hand.

When she next awoke, it was still dark outside. She checked the bedside clock. It was only just after five in the morning. Groaning, Alex rolled over, stretching. She glanced at the other side of the bed, expecting to see Gene.

But the bed was empty and there was no sign he'd ever been there. She frowned, her sleep-fogged brain making it difficult to think. He'd definitely been here, hadn't he? After she'd woken up from the dream about the Railway Arms she'd found herself in his arms, pulled so close to him that she could feel his heart beating against her back.

She reached out and laid her hand against the pillow, testing it for warmth. Nothing. Well… almost nothing. Just visible against the dark blue of the pillowcase was a smear of something darker. Blood.

And his knuckles had been bruised, if her night time visitation was to be believed. Which meant that in all likelihood her dream about the Railway Arms hadn't been a dream at all. It had been… what? A vision?

She shook her head and rose, showering and dressing quickly before heading over to the station.

*

She walked into CID and shrugged out of her coat, setting it down on her desk before heading into Gene's office. The blinds were drawn and the lights were low. As she opened the door, he was just pulling a clean shirt on, his normally relatively graceful movements stiff, awkward. She caught a glimpse of a livid bruise just above the bandage on his shoulder.

'Nice of you to knock,' he commented, his tone dripping offhand sarcasm as he turned to face her.

'You should have woken me,' she said, ignoring his attempt at baiting her. 'That bandage on your shoulder needs changing.'

'Believe it or not I can 'andle some things without you, Bolly. Changed me own dressin',' he said, pulling his suit jacket on. He didn't bother with a tie, leaving the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

She looked up at him, about to retort when she saw how exhausted he looked. 'Have you slept at all, Gene?'

'Was gonna get my 'ead down in 'ere for a couple of hours, but you're here now so we'd better just get on,' he said, rifling through a folder on his desk.

'You should go back to the flat and get some sleep,' she admonished. 'You could have just stayed at the flat when you were there.'

'Who says I was there?' he asked, not looking up from the folder.

She moved closer and put her hand under his chin, tilting it upwards until he was looking at her. 'I saw you,' she said quietly. 'And there was blood on the pillow,' she added, running her thumb over a cut above his right eye.

'Sorry, I'll try not to bleed on your linen in future,' he said, holding her gaze.

'Are you going to tell me what happened?'

He looked away. 'Nothin' to tell, Bolls.'

'Guv, you don't have to do everything yourself. You have a team...'

'That lot? Told yer Bolly, they're not-'

'No, they're not the old team,' she said softly. 'I understand Guv. I do.'

He rubbed his eyes. 'Bloody right there. I could tell Chris and Ray something and they'd go and do it. Not ask me twenty bloody questions before I'd even finished givin' the order.

'They could be like that-'

'No. They can't.'

'And what about me?'

'You, Bolly? You're a pain in the arse.'

'Gene...'

'See this? This is exactly why I didn't wake you last night. I only came back fer a clean shirt. Stopped 'cos it looked like you were 'avin' a bit of a nightmare.' He stopped abruptly, as though feeling he'd said too much. 'Too many bloody questions, Alex.'

'We shouldn't keep things from one another, Guv. If we learned anything over the last year-'

'I just… I really need to be here right now, ok?' he snapped.

She stared at him for a long moment before saying, 'If you want to sleep in your office I'm sure it's no business of mine, Guv,' in the most level tone she could manage.

'Right,' he said, holding her gaze, looking surprised that she hadn't pushed the point. 'So long as we're clear.' He sank into his chair, relief that the conversation was over evident in every line of his body. 'Right,' he said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. 'As no one else 'as your dedication to police work Bolly, 'ow about you go down to the records room and fetch up the Deighton file?'

She nodded and turned, exiting CID without so much as a glance over her shoulder. As she headed down to the records room, she thought about Gene's absolute conviction that he needed to be in CID. As long as she'd known him he'd certainly spent more time there than at home, but this was different.

She could see he was torn. When she'd moved closer to him she'd seen desire warring with exhaustion and a desperate need to be exactly where he was. In the midst of his kingdom. His place of last defence. It reminded her of his behaviour over the last year. When Keats had been holed up in the basement there had been times she'd been almost certain Gene had stopped going home completely.

At the sound of a powerful engine starting up, she stopped at a window, checking to see Gene hadn't taken the opportunity afforded by her absence to go off alone again. But the car wasn't Gene's Mercedes. It was a smaller, more nondescript vehicle. A man was standing with his back to the building, leaning into the driver's window. He straightened up, the car sped off, and Alex saw it was Liam Clarke.

He looked around and up at the windows. Alex quickly ducked out of sight, returning to the window to watch as he headed into the station, pulling his coat up around his throat.

She wondered at herself, hiding from Liam. But his face had looked… strange. Afraid and angry and sad, all at once. And who was that, dropping him off at this time? If she was right – and she was willing to bet the Merc that she was – Liam was like her. So, who would he know here that wasn't someone from the station?

Alex shook her head ruefully. She was starting to see conspiracy theories at every turn. She turned and headed purposefully for the records room.


	10. Nothing Will Drive Them Away

The day had passed slowly.

Clarke and Tremaine had taken themselves off in a pool car to question Lucille Deighton's mother. After lunch, Gene had sent Poirot and Bammo out to investigate a post office robbery that had taken place around midmorning before holing himself up in his office with the Deighton file.

Sawyer and Glenn spent the day steadily working through transcripts of the interviews with Moira Allen's friends, apparently hard at work. Alex caught them both glancing up fearfully at the Guv's office from time to time, but the man himself paid none of them any attention.

At about three in the afternoon when Gene threw the folder onto his desk in disgust and started viciously throwing darts at his dartboard, Alex stood up and moved over to the flipchart.

'Right,' she said brightly. 'Let's go through Moira's statements shall we?'

Ninety minutes later Clarke and Tremaine re-entered CID; Tremaine heading straight for the kitchen while Clarke threw himself down in his chair.

Alex shot him a sympathetic look. 'How was it?'

Liam shook his head. 'Not what you might call a talkative lot. I've heard better language from sailors.' He glanced up at Gene's office. Alex followed the direction of his gaze, seeing Gene was now on the phone. 'Any movement?'

Glenn shook his head. 'He's been in there all day.'

'Hasn't even demanded his tea,' Sheena added, underlining a point on the flipchart.

At that point, Gene hung up the phone and stood, knocking back a full measure of scotch.

'I can see why,' Liam remarked dryly.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Gene pulled his coat on and exited his office.

'Right you lot, I'm goin' out fer a bit. Tremaine,' he snapped as Simon re-entered the room stirring a mug of tea. 'You're with me.'

'Where are you going?' Alex asked.

'You gone deaf, Drake?' He snapped. 'Out.'

'Guv-'

'Shut yer lipstick, Inspector. There's a good girl.' He turned to look at Tremaine who was fussing over by his desk. 'Oi! Simple Simon! Get a bloody move on.' He glanced at Clarke. 'Anythin'?'

'Nothing, Guv.'

Gene nodded. 'Don't wait up.' He turned and strode out of the room, drawing Tremaine into his wake. As the doors started to close his voice carried back into CID. 'Put that bloody tea down!'

*

It had been a very subdued and much reduced CID that had decamped to Franco's a few hours later. Gene and Simon had not returned and Liam had excused himself. Alex and Sheena had shared a bottle of wine before Alex had finally called it a night and gone up to the flat.

After showering and changing into her nightshirt, she glanced out of the window but the Mercedes wasn't there. She glanced towards her bedroom but couldn't bring herself to go to bed yet, so she curled up on the sofa and switched the television on.

She woke up what felt like hours later to a knock on the door. Stretching, she pulled herself to her feet, grimacing at the nascent crick in her neck. She shuffled towards the door and pulled it open, completely unsurprised to see Gene on the other side.

He was leaning against the doorframe, clearly using it to hold himself up.

'Where the bloody hell have you been?' Alex asked.

'D'nstairs,' he slurred.

She stared at him sleepily for a moment. 'It's very late, Gene. Why didn't you-'

'Foun' 'nother dead girl,' he said.

'What?'

''nother dead girl,' he said, more slowly this time, but still barely managing to control the slur in his voice. 'Cos I'm not bloody doin' enough. Not askin' the righ' bastard questions.'

'Gene,' Alex said, reaching out for him.

He stumbled backwards slightly, straightening up with visible effort. 'Don' feel like talkin', Bolly. Jus' came up to let you know before I 'ead off.'

'You're not driving like this.'

''m fine.'

She glanced down and saw his car keys in his hand and snatched them away, feeling his fingers close slightly too slowly. She stepped backwards and Gene followed her unsteadily, reaching a gloved hand out for his keys.

'Don't piss about, Bolls. Gimme.'

'No. Come and get some sleep,' she said, putting her hand behind her back and staring up at him defiantly. He stepped forwards, her lack of shoes meaning that he was dwarfing her.

He leaned around her but she stepped aside swiftly and grabbed his arm, pulling him off balance. He stumbled into the wall, blinking owlishly at her before managing to muster up a glare.

She closed the door and rested her empty hand against his chest in an attempt to placate him. 'Gene, I know you feel-'

'Oh would you shut up, woman?' he growled, reaching out and pulling her roughly towards himself, tilting her head back and covering her mouth with his.

'Gene-' she murmured.

'What did I just say?' he demanded, turning her and pressing her against the wall as she let his keys drop to the floor.

*

When Alex awoke, dirty morning light was starting to drift through her bedroom window. She rolled over slowly. Gene was lying on his back still fast asleep with his head turned towards her. She tracked her eyes over his face, taking in the tension in his features that hadn't completely disappeared even in sleep, the long dark lashes and the slight stubble on his cheeks. She reached over and ran her hand over his bare chest, resting it over his heart.

'Time is it?' he asked, his voice rough.

'About eight, I think,' she said quietly.

Gene groaned and pulled himself out of bed, heading for the bathroom. He returned fifteen minutes later with wet hair and a towel knotted around his waist.

He fell back onto the bed, and closed his eyes. 'Sorry. Mouth tasted like a cinema floor.' Blindly, he reached out and found her hand, putting it back in its previous position on his slightly damp chest. Alex smirked. 'You can stop that an' all,' he said, opening one eye.

'Stop what?'

'Thinkin' about 'avin' yer wicked way wi' me. Don't 'ave time f'r all that nonsense. Just gonna wait for the room ter stop spinnin' then I'll get up.' He ran a hand over his face and through his hair.

'Who was she?' Alex asked quietly, hating herself as she saw him tense, but needing to know. He hadn't told her anything much last night. Their hallway activities hadn't been conducive to much discussion. She wondered to what degree that had been the point.

He opened both eyes and regarded her seriously. 'Name's Tanya Jules.'

'Was she a working girl?'

'Don't know. Found 'er near the warehouses. Tremaine said she'd been questioned at one of the brothels.' He sat up and stretched, casting his eyes around the room for his clothes.

'In the hallway,' she supplied, watching his naked back as he rose and walked out of the room. He returned moments later wearing his trousers, boots and suit jacket in hand.

She stood up, feeling his eyes on her as she moved towards the wardrobe and extracted a clean shirt. She handed it to him and watched as he pulled it on. 'You found her.'

He nodded, his expression blank as he looked down at her. 'She was sixteen, Alex.'

'Let me go in,' she said as he tugged his suit jacket on. 'Talk to the girls.'

'They won't talk to us. We've messed this one up too badly.'

'I could go in undercover.'

'No.'

'Gene-'

'I said no,' he said firmly. 'Right. I'm going 'ome to get changed. I'll be back in 'alf an hour. Think you can be at the station for a bit 'o light policin' by then?'

*

Alex found herself experiencing a wave of deja vu. They were standing in the mortuary again, looking down at another young woman who had been brutally beaten to death. Gene was silent again, but she could feel the anger radiating from him.

'How did she die?' Gene asked.

'Same as before, surely?' Clarke said.

'Actually, no,' the pathologist said. He looked up at Gene. 'We found fibres in her nose and throat.'

'She was suffocated?'

'Correct, DCI Hunt.'

Gene nodded once. 'Anythin' else?'

The pathologist shook his head, covering the girl's body with the sheet.

Clarke turned and left the room, followed by Alex and Gene.

'Chief Inspector?' the pathologist called. 'There was one other thing.'

Alex turned and watched as the pathologist handed Gene a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and glanced at it before screwing it up and shoving it into his inside pocket.

He strode out of the room, sweeping up Alex and Liam in his wake.

'Guv,' Liam began. 'We're-'

'She had your phone number in her pocket,' Gene said.

Liam paused, then hurried to catch up. 'I spoke to her. She said she knew the Deightons' secret. '

Gene's voice was perfectly even. 'You didn't bring her in.'

Walking next to him, Alex glanced up at his face. The calm tone he was using was completely at odds with the darkening of his eyes, the set of his mouth. But Liam didn't know did he? None of the team knew their Guv well enough to recognize the calm before the storm.

'Guv-' she began.

'Don't interrupt, Drake,' he snapped. 'Why didn't you bring her in, Inspector?'

Liam glanced at Alex. 'She didn't want to tell me anything. Wasn't going to open up.'

'You should 'ave tried harder. Set Drake and her bloody psychiatry on her,' Gene said. 'Failing that, the interview rooms've been known to 'ave people spill their dirtiest, darkest little secrets. Not to mention he well known effects of a little Q and A with the Gene Genie. Why didn't you ring her in?' he demanded, stopping and wheeling around suddenly.

Liam failed to stop in time and ended up with Gene towering ort him. 'To tell the truth, Guv, I… didn't believe her. '

'She told you she was terrified. Told you she knew about the Deightons.'

'Well she's not r-'Alex stared, wondering at what he'd been about to say. Clarke took a breath and continued. 'I thought maybe she had a grudge. She was a prostitute.'

Gene grabbed him, lifting him bodily by his collar and throwing him back against the wall. 'She was sixteen years old,' he growled, leaning down so his face was inches from Clarke's. 'A child. Somebody's daughter. And now she's dead. And I 'ave to go and find her parents and tell them their little girl's been murdered because one of my officers didn't bother to bring her in when she said she was scared for her life.' He shoved Liam back against the wall and stepped back. 'Get out of my sight, Inspector Clarke. I don't want to see you back 'ere today.'

Clarke looked from Gene to Alex before turning and storming down the corridor.

'Guv,' Alex said. 'He didn't-'

'He let that girl die, Bolls. Because he didn't think she mattered.'

'I think he's-'

'I don't care what he is,' Gene snapped. 'If I see him back in my station today I won't be held responsible for my actions.' He turned and pushed through the doors to CID.

Alex looked after him, then turned and headed after Liam.


	11. Maybe We're Lying

By the time Alex caught up with Clarke he was in the car park, leaning against a patrol car and speaking into a radio. When he caught sight of her he turned the radio off and turned to walk away from the station. 

‘Liam!’ she called, jogging to catch up with him. 

‘How do you stand it here, Alex?’ he demanded, wheeling around to face her. ‘It’s like he thinks he can just throw his weight around and it’ll somehow make everything he does right. Well it doesn’t!' 

‘He just wants to find those girls, Liam,’ she said calmly.

‘Does he? So little actual police work goes on in that department it’s a joke!’ 

‘You started to say something else. When the Guv asked you why you didn’t bring Tanya Jules in. You started to say she wasn’t something, then stopped. What were you going to say?’

He looked at her for a long moment, and then shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘You can talk to me, Liam. It might even help.’

‘It was nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

Alex watched him for a moment, trying to get something – anything – from his expression. But in some ways he was proving to be as inscrutable as Gene. ‘Come on,’ she said, moving past him. 

‘Where are we going?’ Liam said, following her. ‘Shouldn’t you be heading back upstairs?’

She ignored the thinly veiled jibe and kept walking. ‘You and I are going to perform a little undercover operation, Liam. I just need to go home and change first.’

*

Several hours later, Liam stopped the car outside the bar the Deightons’ girls were known to frequent and turned to look at Alex. ‘You’re sure about this?’

She turned the rear-view mirror towards herself and checked her makeup. ‘Absolutely.’

‘And DCI Hunt...’

‘Doesn’t need to know about it just yet.’ Alex said. ‘I’m the only one they haven’t seen yet. I’ll go in and talk to the girls and I’ll radio you in a couple of hours and meet you back here,’ she finished, pulling a radio from the glove box and pushing it to the bottom of the bag she wore. 

‘We still haven’t found Carlisle…’ he said, glancing out of the window at the darkening street.

‘He’s not going to come back here. Look, you said it yourself, Liam, we are making next to no progress on this. Those girls won’t talk to the police and there’s a good chance that they know where Tina Eastridge and Moira Allen are. If you can think of a better way to get them to talk…’

‘We could send DCI Hunt in for some Q an’ A…’ Liam sniped. 

Alex gave him a patient half smile before opening her door and sliding out of the car. 

*

Alex sat on her barstool, observing the people around her with carefully concealed interest. She’d picked her outfit carefully. Slightly slutty, cheap clothes and overdone makeup that made her blend in with the women around her. 

She had spoken with a couple of the women but was very aware that these were working girls, and they were working tonight. Her job was mainly to listen to the incidental conversations around her and try to ascertain whether or not the women knew anything. 

After a couple of hours she’d overheard nothing to suggest the women knew much about anything, and she’d seen enough of them disappearing out of the bar in the company of a variety of seedy looking men to make her feel nauseous. She drained her drink and slid from her barstool, leaning down to tug her skirt down over her thighs. 

‘Well where is she then?’ the coarse female voice carried through the open door of the bar and Alex turned. 

Outside, she could see a young woman squaring up to a large, overly muscled man. As she watched, the man took hold of one of the woman’s arms and dragged her out of Alex’s line of sight. She grabbed her faux fur coat and hurried out after them. 

She followed the sound of their voices into a short alley beside the bar. 

‘I know you know where Tina is!’ the woman hissed. 

‘Shut ya mouth, Kara,’ the man growled, yanking on her arm so she was pulled off balance. 

‘Moira’s gone too. I’m tellin’ Luce –‘

The man drew his hand back to slap her and Alex felt she had to interrupt. ‘Ev’rythin’ all right?’ she called, slurring slightly and staggering on her heels.

‘Mind yer own business if you know what’s good for yer,’ the man snarled, barely glancing at her. 

‘She's a copper, Tommy,’ the girl – Kara - said.

Tommy wheeled around, dragging Kara by the arm. ‘You what?’

‘I'm not!’ Alex said, ‘just heard you arguing is all.’

Tommy dropped Kara to the floor and advanced on Alex. ‘I know you are,’ the man said. Alex opened her mouth to speak but he slapped her, he ring he wore cutting into her cheek. ‘We don’t like undercover coppers around ‘ere.’

Behind Tommy, Kara pulled herself to her feet and ran past them, distracting him. Alex ran too, pulling her radio from her bag and switching it on. ‘This is DI Alex Drake. Urgent assistance required in Malvern Road, E8. DI Clarke please respond.’ 

She slipped and felt Tommy’s hand close in her hair, dragging her backwards towards a house, her radio falling from her hand. He shoved her into the house and she saw a host of women filling the front room. 

Tommy closed the door and bolted it. ‘Don’t need coppers pokin’ their noses where they’re not wanted.’

‘Let me go!’ Alex said, pulling herself to her feet and holding her head high even as part of her brain gave in to the nagging thought that she should have told Gene what she intended to do. She'd said it herself: things went wrong when they weren't honest with one another. And now here she was, trapped and with no back up apparently imminent. 

‘Not likely, love. I know your boss. Detective Chief Inspector Gene ‘unt. I call it disgustin’, ‘im sendin’ you in to do ‘is dirty work.’ He pulled out a flick-knife and advanced on her. ‘Gonna send a little message to ‘im… teach Mr ‘unt a lesson ‘e won’t forget in a hurry.’ 

The man knew Gene, then. Not unusual, it wasn’t as though Gene didn’t pride himself on the impression he made on the criminal underbelly of London. But if she could stress that this wasn’t about Gene, it wasn’t personal, maybe she could give herself some time. ‘DCI Hunt didn’t send me.’

‘So no one knows you’re ‘ere?’

‘My colleague, DI Clarke – he’ll be here any moment. If you let me go-‘

‘Your colleague? The twat in the green Escort? He’s long gone. Left you all on your own. An’ if I don’t ‘ave to worry about DCI Hunt I can give you a proper lesson…’

The door splintered, falling into the room in a shower of wood and glass. Alex looked up, expecting to see Liam but it was Gene standing in the stricken doorway, glaring into the room. 

Tommy glanced between them, then ran towards Gene, the arm holding the knife outstretched. Gene grabbed the knife arm and pulled, tugging Tommy into a head butt. ‘Thomas Kidbrooke. Should ‘ave known you’d be ‘ere,’ he said as the man fell to the floor. ‘You're nicked.’ Gene glanced over his shoulder. ‘Tremaine, cuff 'im. Glenn, get DI Drake to the Merc.’

He turned to the girls lining the edge of the room. ‘You lot, I  _ will _ find Tina and Moira. With or without your help. But without'll take longer an’ in the meantime more of you could wind up dead. If here's any bloody decency left in you and you know somethin’ come and find me. You know who I am?’

The girls stared at him mutely. Kidbrooke snorted, the sound distorting horribly through a clearly broken nose. ‘Your reputation precedes you Mr 'unt. They won’t talk to a thug like you. You’re no better than me.’ 

‘Is that right?’ Gene snapped. ‘Well we’ll see what you’ve got to say for yerself back at the station.’ He turned and stalked out of the room. 

Glenn moved towards Alex but she was already following Gene. ‘We should bring them in, Guv.’

‘All of ‘em?’ he asked, not breaking his stride. ‘What the bloody ‘ell for?’

‘They know something!’ she said, stumbling slightly on her skyscraper heels as they reached the car. 

He opened his door and glared at her. ‘Not ‘appenin’, Drake. Get in.’

‘Guv!’

‘Shut yer bloody gob and get in the bloody car, Inspector!’ he yelled, getting into the Merc and slamming the door.

*

Gene had dropped her off at her flat with a stern injunction to go home and change into something that would allow the rest of the squad to get some work done that evening before presenting herself at the station within the next fifteen minutes. As she’d climbed out of the car, he’d called after her.

‘And get somethin’ on that scratch. God bloody knows what filth Kidbrooke has on his ‘ands.’

When Alex walked back in to CID it was sparsely populated, which wasn’t surprising given the hour. Only Martin Glenn and Simon Tremaine were in the office, both sitting at their desks with matching expressions of exhaustion. Gene’s office stood dark and empty.

Alex tamped down on the uneasiness that swept through her at the sight and turned to Tremaine. ‘Where’s the Guv?’

‘In an interview,’ he said. 

‘On his own?’

‘He’s not questioning Kidbrooke yet. One of those girls came in to see him. A Kat…’ he checked the pad on his desk, ‘Solomon. Said she’d only speak to him alone.’

Alex tensed. ‘Which room?’

‘They’re in the canteen.’

She opened her mouth to ask but was cut off by Simon’s shrug. ‘No idea,’ he said.

The canteen was empty and most of the lights were out at this time of night, but Alex could see Gene sitting across from an attractive blonde woman in her mid-twenties. As she watched, he leaned across the table and lit the woman’s cigarette for her before sitting back and lighting his own. 

‘Tommy was right,’ Kat said, taking a drag on her cigarette. ‘We do know you. But not like he said. Dyed in the wool copper, you are. Not like them others. Straight down the line.’ She flicked ash from her cigarette. ‘Is your friend ok? The one Tommy slapped around.’

Gene shrugged. ‘Nothing her ego can't handle.’

‘You care about her,’ the woman said, reaching out and laying a hand on his arm. 

Gene hesitated a moment and Alex didn’t need to see his face to know that he’d be staring at the woman, blue eyes holding hers so she couldn’t look away. ‘She's my DI,’ he said carefully. He looked pointedly at her hand until she removed it. 

But Kat was not to be deterred. ‘Bit more than that, I reckon. You don’t get that angry with someone you ain't involved with. I saw the way you looked at her. The way you’re not lookin’ at me.’

‘Why’d you come ‘ere, Kat?’

‘Moira’s not missin’,’ she said. ‘Not like Tina. She’s involved.’

‘Involved in what?’

‘Couple of months ago girls started goin’ missin’. Just the young ones. Teenagers. Kids really. They’d be there one day, next day – poof – gone.’

‘And Moira Allen was involved?’

‘Not at first. She only ever really came around with that boyfriend of ‘ers. Wasn’t really involved in that side of her stepdad’s business. I got the feelin’ she didn’t like ‘im much. You sure she’s not your bird?’

‘So why do you think she was involved?’ Gene said, ignoring the question. 

‘They ‘ad a row.’

‘Moira and Carlisle?’

‘Moira and Lawrence. Big row. ‘e said if she didn’t do ‘er bit ‘er mum wouldn’t be able to save ‘er.’

‘And now she’s disappeared,’ Gene said.

‘No she hasn’t,’ Kat said, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘I saw ‘er last night. Picture of health.’

*

Alex had returned to CID to wait for Gene while he had the desk sergeant make one of the cells more comfortable for Kat to stay in overnight, having decided it was too dangerous for her to go back out. 

Having successfully gone unnoticed for the remainder of his interview with Kat Alex had returned to CID to find Glenn asleep at his desk and Tremaine nursing a cup of coffee. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at her desk to wait. 

Glenn jerked awake as the doors to CID opened and Gene entered, striding towards his office without looking around. ‘You lot. Go ‘ome.’ Back ‘ere bright and early in the mornin’.’ 

Glenn and Tremaine stood and made for the door but Alex followed Gene into his office. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from his filing cabinet and poured himself a glass, taking a swig as he turned to face her. 

‘What do you want?’

‘Are we not going to question Kidbrooke?’ she asked. 

‘Not tonight, no. Let ‘im stew.’

She took in the tension practically vibrating off him and opened her mouth to speak. 

‘Go home, Bolly,’ he said sternly. ‘I’ll see you back ‘ere tomorrow.’

She wanted to argue. To tell him to come with her. To get some sleep. Anything to get a response he seemed dead set against giving. But there was no point, he was already pouring himself another scotch and hadn’t met her eyes since she walked into the room. ‘Yes, Guv,’ she said, turning to go. 

She  _ saw  _ him snap. ‘Don’t you dare  _ Yes, Guv _ me!’ he snarled. ‘You deliberately went behind my back, Alex!’

‘Gene-‘ she began, knowing it was a mistake to use his name even as she said it. The prostitute’s questioning of his feelings for her had hit home. 

‘Don’t you bloody dare, DI Drake.’ 

‘We needed to talk to those girls and I was the only one who could –‘

‘You had no backup, your radio was off an’ I didn’t know where you were!’ He slammed the tumbler down on his desk and stalked around it until he was standing in front of her. ‘You think you're bloody untouchable. You’re not!’ 

‘I did have backup!’ she shouted, annoyed that he would think she could be so stupid. 

‘Are you tellin' me,’ he began, his voice a low growl, ‘one of that miserable lot of useless twats knew where you were?’ When she didn’t answer his glare intensified. ‘Anythin’ could have happened to you, Alex!’ His eyes tracked over the scratch on her cheek. ‘It nearly bloody did.’

Her own glare softened as she saw his fear for her coming through. ‘You found me.’

‘Of course I bloody found you,’ he said, sounding exhausted suddenly. ‘I just thought, where’s the last place I’d want her to be on ‘er own? And I was struck with a sudden epiphany.’ He sighed and turned away from her, walking back to the desk and dropping into his chair. ‘Go home. Get some sleep. I want you back ‘ere tomorrow where I can keep an eye on you.’

She smiled gently at him. ‘Might be easier to keep an eye on me if you came with me.’

He shook his head. ‘Not tonight. Got stuff to catch up on ‘ere.  _ Some _ of us didn’t spend the evenin’ drinking with thugs and prozzies.’

‘You need sleep, Gene.’

‘Bolls, for once, just do as you’re bloody told,’ he sighed.

She nodded and turned to leave. 

‘One thing, Bolly. You’ve not seen Clarke while you’ve been out gallivanting, ‘ave yer?’

She stared at him. So, Liam hadn’t come back. Hadn’t told Gene where to find her. She wanted to tell Gene she’d been with Liam but couldn’t bring herself to, not when he was being like this. ‘No, Guv. I haven’t seen him.’

He grunted, raising his eyebrows. ‘Good. Let’s ‘ope the delicate flower deigns to join us tomorrow morning. You get off ‘ome.’

Alex left his office, grabbing her jacket from her desk and opening the doors to CID. She glanced back at Gene sitting in his darkened office. He had his feet up on the desk and was staring into the middle distance. She stopped herself going back to him and left the office, letting the doors swing shut behind her.


	12. Then You Better Not Stay

Alex couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, half willing herself into unconsciousness, half desperate to stay awake. The dreams she'd been having weren't exactly nightmares, but they left her with a feeling of unease she couldn't shake. She rolled over and stared blearily at her bedside clock. Five AM. Almost involuntarily, she glanced over at the other side of the bed and sighed.

Some part of her had expected Gene to relent and come over, although she supposed it made sense that he would have gone home. She shook her head at the turn her thoughts had taken. Since when did she need Gene Hunt to chase bad dreams away? She threw the duvet back in a frustrated gesture and slid from the bed, throwing on a robe and heading towards the kitchen. She heated some milk on the stove and poured it into a mug before shrugging and adding a tot of the whiskey she kept in the cupboard.

She moved back into the living room and glanced out of the window, frowning when she saw the Merc was still parked outside the station. Her frown deepened when she realised someone was leaning against the car, a fact that would have outraged its owner were he not - she was  _ certain _ \- sleeping at his desk.

In the amber glow of the streetlight, she couldn't make out the man's face. Too short to be Gene himself, the figure using the Mercedes as an impromptu bench had the wrong posture, shoulders hunched over in a way she was sure the Guv couldn't manage even undercover. And besides that, there was no cigarette in his hand, which there would have certainly been if it  _ was _ Gene.

The man glanced up at her window and Alex ducked out of sight, peering cautiously around the window frame. She heard the sound of a car coming down the street and watched as a familiar green escort pulled up outside the station and Liam Clarke climbed out.

Alex stared as the hunched over man pushed away from the Merc and walked towards Liam. After a short exchange, Liam pushed past him - solidly knocking the other man's shoulder - and headed up the stairs into the station. The man watched him for a moment, then turned and walked away down the street.

As Alex moved to sit on the sofa, she felt curiosity wash over her. It couldn't be more than quarter past five in the morning, what on Earth was Liam doing at the station? More importantly, where had he been when she needed him? The hunched figure piqued her curiosity, memories of her own experiences with Marin Summers and Jim Keats rushing to the forefront of her mind, not to mention Sam Tyler's clandestine meetings with DCI Morgan. She should talk to Gene, she knew. She should have told him that Clarke had been acting as her backup. That he'd disappeared. But she needed more information about Liam, about where he came from, why he was here, and she suspected he wouldn't be susceptible to the more direct methods Gene would be likely to employ.

*

Alex awoke with a start to the ringing of the phone, groaning as she realised she'd fallen asleep sitting upright on the sofa. She glanced up at the clock and realised with a grimace that it was after nine. She was late. No doubt that was Gene on the phone, calling to berate her for her tardiness.

Rather than answer, she dragged herself into the bathroom and had the quickest shower she could manage with her aching muscles, dressed, and hurried over to the station.

She advanced on the doors to CID at something approaching a run, only to walk straight into the solid bulk of Gene Hunt. As she stumbled backwards he caught hold of both of her arms, holding her upright.

'Nice o' you to join us, Madam Inspector,' he said, his hands loosening on her arms but not letting go.

'Sorry. Didn't get much sleep last night, must have missed my alarm this morning.' She glanced down at his hands and noticed he was wearing his gloves. 'Are you going out?'

He followed the direction of her gaze and snatched his hands away, fiddling with the cuff of his glove. ' _ We _ are going out. Got a tip off as to the whereabouts of Moira Allen. Come on.' He strode past her and she turned to hurry after him.

*

Gene had been strangely silent on the drive over, and Alex had been too tired to make conversation. Besides, she had the feeling he wanted to ask her about Liam and she really didn't know what she could say.

As they pulled into the yard outside some railway arches, Alex glanced over at him. 'Why are we here?'

'Kat said we should look for Moira 'ere,' he said, peering at the building through the windscreen.

Alex felt her stomach twist slightly, remembering his easy interaction with the prostitute the day before. 'Oh,  _ Kat _ said, did she? When did  _ Kat _ say that?'

He gave her an odd look. 'Last night.'

'You interviewed her again?'

'She asked to see me. I took 'er a cuppa in the cells. I 'ave got  _ some _ manners you know.'

'I'm sure you did,' Alex snarked, turning her gaze to the building ahead of them in an attempt to avoid his gaze.

'You jealous, Bolls?' he asked, and she could  _ hear _ the smirk behind the words, even if she couldn't see it.

'Don't flatter yourself, Guv,' she snapped, glancing back at him.

The smirk disappeared and he pulled the keys out of the ignition with a little more force than was strictly necessary. 'Right. Wouldn't want that. Come on then, Posh Knickers.'

He climbed out of the car and strode towards the door to the shop under the arches, Alex hot on his heels.

'Do we have-' Alex began, but was cut off by Gene kicking the door open. 'Well that answers that, then.'

'What are you on about?' he demanded, moving into the room.

'I was wondering whether we had a search warrant,' she said. 'But you've answered that question for me.'

'Oh do me a favour and pipe down, will yer Bolls?' He looked around. 'Police!'

They moved further into the room, Alex looking around carefully. It was obviously a mechanic's workshop. Gene moved to a desk and started rifling through a sheaf of papers, as Alex headed to the back of the room.

'Guv,' she called. 'There's a bed here. And some women's clothes.' On the floor at the back of the room was a bedroll covered by a dirty blanket. Next to it a sports bag lay open, disgorging leggings and cheap skirts onto the oily ground. Gene moved to stand just behind her, the wool of his coat brushing against her legs.

'There was definitely a woman 'ere then,' Gene said. 'Reckon it was Moira?'

She turned and found herself standing very close to him. She raised her chin and met his gaze. 'I don't think so,' she said, surprising herself with the low quality of her own voice.

'No?' he asked quietly.

'Those don't look like clothes she'd wear,' she said, almost absently, distracted by the weight of his gaze on hers.

'Hmm. You met 'er once, Bolly. This your psychiatry rearin' it's ugly head?' he asked, the huskiness of his tone didn't match his words.

'Psychology,' she said mildly, vaguely aware that her head was tilting to the side slightly and that he appeared to be getting closer.

'Same thing,' he murmured, his eyes flicking down to her mouth then back up again.

She felt herself leaning into him, breathing in his scent as her eyes fell closed. Just as she felt the barest brush of his lips against hers there was a crash from somewhere behind Gene.

They spun around to see a man running out of the door they'd left open.

'Oi'! Gene shouted, turning and heading after the man.

Alex exited the workshop in time to see Gene tackle the man, sending them both sprawling onto the floor of the yard. Gene pulled himself to his feet, watching the other man warily.

Alex's stomach lurched unpleasantly as she recognised the large man currently using the Merc to pull himself upright. She'd seen him in her dream.

'Smallbrook,' Gene growled. 'Should've known I'd be seein' you again.' He moved forward and grabbed Smallbrook before he could completely regain his feet, punching him in the stomach so that he doubled over, allowing Gene to knee him in the face.

'Steady on, Guv,' Alex said, stepping forwards.

The man looked up, grinning through bloodied teeth. 'Listen to the skirt, Mr 'unt. She's obviously the brains of the outfit. Not bad lookin' either.'

Alex winced as Gene chose that moment to push Smallbrook back to the floor, shoving his face into the concrete and pressing his boot down on his neck. 'You lied to me, Smallbrook. Now I want some answers.'

'Guv,' Alex said, stepping forwards. 'We should take him to the station.'

Gene glanced at her before stepping back. 'Up,' he snapped.

Smallbrook got to his feet, leering at Alex briefly before finding himself shoved against the bonnet of the Merc as Gene forced handcuffs onto his wrists.

'Radio for uniform, Drake. I'm not 'avin' this scum markin' up the interior.' As he spoke he shoved the man face first into the bonnet.

'Police brutality, Mr 'unt.'

Gene leaned down to growl into the man's ear. 'Not  _ yet _ it isn't, sunshine.'

'You wanna be careful,' the man wheezed. 'People watchin' you,' he finished as Gene yanked him upright.

'What do you mean?' Alex asked, tucking her radio away.

'Wouldn't you like to know, darlin'?'

'That would be why I asked, yes.'

'Ignore 'im, Bolly. That's an order.'

But Smallbrook held Alex's gaze. 'I think you know,' he grinned.

*

Alex had failed to get anything further from Smallbrook and was now sitting back at her desk. Gene had decided to take Glenn with him into the interview room. As he'd left CID his glance had fallen on Alex briefly, his gaze unreadable.

They'd been gone two hours and the rest of the team had gone to lunch or were chasing up other leads when Liam Clarke arrived in CID. Alex realised with a start that she'd not seen him since she'd spied on him from her window that morning.

He walked through CID without saying a word and headed straight into the kitchen. Alex stared after him a moment before deciding enough was enough. She rose and followed him into the kitchen.

'What happened to you yesterday?' she asked.

He turned, looking surprised to see her. 'Something came up.'

'I needed backup and you weren't there,' she said, feeling her anger rising.

'I suppose you've told DCI Hunt?' he asked, turning back to the kettle.

'No.'

'No? Why not?'

'I wanted to see what you had to say for yourself.'

He slammed his mug down so hard the handle broke off and the mug fell to the floor, smashing into dozens of pieces. 'What I had to say for myself?' he demanded, wheeling around to face her.

'Ma'am?' Sheena appeared in the doorway, holding a sandwich in her hand.

'This whole place is ridiculous, Alex!' Liam shouted. 'And you wanted to see what I had to say for myself?' He completely ignored Sheena and stormed out of the kitchen into CID.

'Liam!' Alex called, following him into the main office.

'Leave me alone!' he said, turning to look at her as he walked backwards towards the doors. 'Everything here is… is mental. It's not real! And you're just as bad as-'

'As who, Clarke?'

Liam turned to find himself standing toe to toe with Gene.

'You were sayin', Inspector?' Gene snapped.

Liam looked from Gene to Alex, then back to Gene again. 'Nothing, Guv,' he ground out.

'Too bloody right. Get your arse down to the Deightons' warehouses. Smallbrook reckons Carlisle's down there. Find him.'

'On my own?'

'Thought you'd prefer it that way, since you've not seen fit to grace us with your presence these days. Off you go Lone Ranger.'

Clarke glared up at Gene then pushed past him and out of CID. Alex grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and followed him, leaving the room in stunned silence save for the phone that started ringing on his desk.

'Oi!' Gene said. She stopped and looked at him. 'A word.'

She followed him into his office, wincing as he slammed the door behind her. 'Your name Tonto or summat?'

'I'm going with him,' Alex said.

'You're bloody not! I told him to go, 'e's gone. If he wants back up he can take uniform. We've got stuff to do here.'

'That isn't like you, Gene. You should-'

'You know what I don't need? I don't need a jumped up little gobshite moanin' about the way I run my kingdom. And d'you know what else? I don't need you to tell me what I  _ should _ be doing, DI Drake!' he snapped, thumping his hand down on the desk.

'What are we doing here, Gene?' she asked.

'Doesn't matter. What we're doing has nothing to do with this situation.'

'Why have me here if you don't trust me?' she demanded.

'I didn't make you come back here!' he snapped back.

'Then maybe I should go!' she said, regretting the words the instant they left her mouth.

'Maybe you should!'

Alex stood in shocked silence for a few moments, watching him carefully. This man she… cared for. This stupid, arrogant, stubborn _ ,  _ violent, utter  _ dinosaur  _ of a man. She stared at him, feeling as though she'd never really  _ seen _ him before. 'Well that's-'

'Alex-' he began, but the office door opened and Sheena burst in. 'Guv! Phone for you. It's DS Tremaine. Says it's urgent.' Gene turned to glare at her and Alex slipped out of the room.


	13. We Could Steal Time

Alex had just made it out of the building when Gene caught up with her. 

'Oi, Speedy Knickers! I didn't say you could go.'

Alex didn't break her stride. 'I rather think you did,  _ sir _ ,' Alex said coldly, emphasizing the 'sir' and watching annoyance flash across his face.

Gene grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. 'Alex I didn't-' he began.

Alex cut him off. 'You're pushing them away Gene,' she snapped. Softening her tone slightly as she took in the conciliatory expression on his face. 'Isolating yourself.'

'I am  _ trying _ to do my job.'

'And what about me?'

'See, Alex, this is why shaggin' and workin' together is a bad idea,' he sighed. 'Makes you think you're entitled to know the inner workings of my mind all the bloody time.'

Alex balked at that, drawing herself up to her full height to glare at him. 'Oh so that's it, is it? Typical bloody man. You know I'd genuinely forgotten just how ridiculously oversized your ego was.'

He looked down his nose at her. 'Not the only oversized part of me you're fond of, is it, Bolls?'

She snorted in derision. 'You know I'm right about the way you've been acting.'

He held her gaze for a moment before stepping back from her. 'I bloody don't,' he snapped. 'But you know I'm right about that lot. 'specially Clarke. There's somethin' not right about 'im, Bolly. Can feel it in me water.'

'He's just trying-'

'He's trying my bloody patience! They all are.'

'Because they're not your old team? That's very unfair.'

'I'm not talking about this. If you want to go after 'im, fine. Go on then. We'll be 'ere, tryin' to solve the small matter of a murder kidnapping case. But don't let that worry you, Madam Fruitcake. You get off. Get more done without you 'ere in any case.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'It  _ means _ you're so bloody concerned with DI Stroppy Bollocks you've been no bloody use to me on the case! So go on. Go after 'im. Stay with 'im for all I bloody care!' He turned on his heel and stalked back into the station, shoving the door open so hard it hit the wall with a resounding crash.

Alex glared after him, debating with herself as to whether she should go after him and give him a piece of her mind. But Liam needed her help. More than Gene, it would seem.

A small part of her acknowledged that what he'd said had hurt. She'd come back here because she wanted to, hadn't she? Because he –

She shook her head and turned towards the street, seeing the green Escort pool car Liam usually signed out turning the corner. She hurried down the steps and flagged him down.

As he pulled to a stop, she opened the passenger door.

'I don't need company thanks, Drake.'

'Don't be silly,' she said, affecting a cheery tone she didn't feel as she slid into the passenger seat. She glanced up at the station, then back to Liam. 'Shall we?'

'Had a falling out with our gracious leader?' Liam asked.

'Not at all,' she lied. 'Just thought I could help you search the warehouses.'

'I really don't need any help, Alex,' he said. 'I'm sure there's-

'You're not going on your own, Liam, no matter what the Guv thinks. Now let's go.'

*

Liam didn't speak for most of the drive, as much as Alex tried to start several conversations They worked their way through two of the three warehouses in almost complete silence, only speaking to confirm that they'd found nothing. The sun was just starting to go down as they finished the sweep of the second warehouse. As they were walking towards the final building Liam stopped. Alex turned to face him.

'Problem?'

'What's the point?' he said, exasperated.

Alex tipped her head to the side, a sympathetic expression crossing her features. 'We have to find the girls.'

'Why? They don't matter, Alex. None of this matters.'

'Of course they matter.'

'Why didn't you tell Hunt I was with you on that undercover op?'

'No harm done,' Alex said, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. 'I thought you might have a reason for disappearing.'

'No harm done?' he asked, raising a hand to brush against the scratch on her cheek.

His hand was cold and Alex moved her head away involuntarily. Liam's mouth set into a firm line and dropped his hand back to his side.

'I think I can handle this on my own,' he said. 'Why don't you go back to the car?'

'What did happen to you yesterday?' she asked, following him as he walked past her towards the warehouse. 'Liam, I didn't tell the Guv because I think you had a good reason for disappearing.'

'The Guv,' he said over his shoulder. 'They all call him that, don't they? Even you.'

'Well… he is,' Alex said, wilting under the disparaging look he threw over his shoulder as he opened the door to the warehouse.

'Let's split up. Get this over and done with so you can report back to the “Guv”,' he snapped, making sarcastic air quotes before striding off ahead of her.

*

Alex had finished the sweep of her side of the warehouse and made her way outside when she heard Liam's voice coming from around the edge of the building.

'I don't know if I can-'

He was cut off by another voice, obviously coming over the radio. Even though she only caught parts of it, the voice made Alex's blood run cold.

'… imperative that you keep Alex Drake there. … you understand me?'

Alex forced herself to creep closer to the voices, needing confirmation of what she'd heard.

'But she's nothing to do with –'

The other voice came through loud and clear this time. 'Hunt will crumble without her! You  _ know  _ why we have to take him down.'

Alex froze. She knew that voice. She'd spent almost a year listening to that voice as it sowed dissention and distrust throughout CID.

'But-'

Alex moved slightly, brushing against a shovel and knocking it over. Liam appeared around the corner, stashing his radio in his coat pocket.

'Finished your sweep?' he asked, trying for casual but only managing harassed.

'Who were you talking to?' Alex demanded.

'No one. When?'

'On your radio.'

'I wasn't on my radio.'

'Yes you were. I heard you. Liam, you can't trust him,' she said, stepping forward.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'You know I wanted to keep you out of this, Alex. I really did. But you wouldn't leave me alone would you?' He reached behind himself and drew his gun, cocking it and aiming it at her. 'And now I have no choice.'

'I can help you, Liam,' Alex said reasonably. 'I know you want to go home.'

He laughed hollowly. 'Home? Don't be ridiculous.'

'I don't understand,' Alex said slowly, backing away slightly.

'For a clever woman, Alex, you can be remarkably slow. Stop moving.' He took a step towards her. 'My DCI indicated that you showed promise but ultimately lacked vision.'

'Gene said that?' Alex asked, stopping and raising her hands slightly.

'Gene Hunt? His time's up. Maybe he served a purpose once but those days are gone. He has used you, Alex. Don't you see? Pulled you back here from your eternal reward, and for what?'

'No. No, I  _ chose _ to come back.'

'Did you? I've heard about your last little chat with Gene Hunt. He told you about the way out.'

' _ I can't go in there!' _

' _ Yes you can. They've got a saloon bar.' _

Alex shook her head, ignoring the memory that washed over her. 'Liam… you have to understand. It isn't like that at all. I need him. He needs me.'

'What for? To keep him company? You  _ can't _ be that naïve,' Liam scoffed.

'What do you mean?'

'He wanted you to take his place. To be stuck here, alone, while he moved on.'

'No, no he doesn't want-' Alex said, beginning to back away again as she watched the muzzle of Liam's gun swaying from side to side.

'Doesn't he? You must've noticed his heart's not in it anymore. He barely gives his new team a thought. Is that the man you came back for? And now, now he's left you all alone. Let you go off with me even though he knows what's going on. He knows what kind of people you're up against but he isn't here, Alex. He's throwing you to the wolves. Just like he did with me. With Louise Gardner. With Viv James.'

'Viv?' Alex asked. But she was already seeing it in her mind's eye. Gene holding Viv's head in his hands as their friend lay dead in the basement of HMP Fenchurch, a strange look of dark triumph glittering in Keats' eyes before he schooled his expression. Louise Gardner. Keats had gotten to her as well. So that was a part of it too. If someone  _ did  _ die here he was compelled to be there. She thought about the others. Sally, the girl from Manchester who'd died in Soho, Martin Summers, redeemed by Gene even as he shot him. Super Mac.

Alex had managed to put quite a bit of distance between herself and Liam now, but she knew she had nowhere to run. There was the car, of course, but Liam had the keys. And she had no radio and no gun.  _ Brilliant, Alex. _ 'He cares about me.'

'Does he? Told you that did he? Thought not. One night together and you think you know him.'

'Three years,' she corrected. 'And I do know him.'

'You never learn do you Alex? Still… I've been told there'll be plenty of time for that.  _ I _ learned.' He glanced over his shoulder then looked back at her. 'My DCI's coming for you, Alex.'

Alex straightened slightly as a sound that had been on the edge of hearing steadily grew louder. She met Clarke's eyes, allowing her sympathy to show plainly in her eyes, to override the hurt and confusion. 'I'm so sorry, Liam. So's mine.'

Liam turned as the silver-blue car sped into the yard, spinning into a handbrake turn and catching the light of the setting sun as it screeched to a halt between them, the drivers' side door only metres form Alex.

Liam backed away from the dust cloud the car had thrown up as Gene got out of the car, his eyes sweeping over Alex before he turned to Clarke, pulling his gun and aiming it at the younger man.

'Put it down, Clarke,' he ordered.

'I can't.'

'Liam-' Alex began, but Clarke fired his gun, missing her by inches.

As she ducked down, Clarke fired again and Gene returned fire. Through the windows of the Merc she saw Liam go down.

Gene holstered his gun and turned to Alex. 'You ok?'

She nodded and he turned and walked around the car. Alex stood and followed him. Liam was breathing heavily, Gene crouching beside him, pressing his hand to the wound in the man's arm.

'Get away from me!' Liam said, squirming away.

'Shut up, you dozy twat. I'm tryin' to save your life 'ere! Bolls, radio for an ambulance.' He reached into his coat pocket and passed her his radio, before returning his attention to Liam.

She thumbed the switch and radioed in for an ambulance, unable to take her eyes from the scene in front of her. If Liam died here it was her fault. Because she hadn't gotten to him in time. Hadn't been able to help him.

'You… you shot me!' Liam said, starting to shiver with shock.

'You shot at my DI,' Gene said evenly. 'And you didn't seem open to reasoned persuasion.'

'You're a bastard.'

'The very worst, sunshine. Bolly! That bloody ambulance on its way yet?'

Alex didn't answer, just stared mutely at the tableau in front of her. Gene turned his head to glance at her but Liam spoke again, pulling his attention back.

'Let me go, Gene.'

'Don't you dare bloody die on me, Clarke. And it's Guv to you, thanks.'

'Can't stay here. And Alex is wrong. I don't want to go back. I've got nothing to go back for. Lost my job. Wife left me. Nothing left to believe in. How do you do it?'

'You see this?' Gene asked, flipping his warrant card open with his free hand. This is what  _ I _ believe in. Everythin' else is just window dressin'.'

'But, that can't be yours. That's just a kid…' Liam said.

Alex stared at the back of Gene's head, wondering what he was playing at.

'Shut the 'ell up, Inspector. Once they've patched you up, you and I are gonna have a full and frank discussion about all this. But until then button it, ok?'

The sound of sirens was suddenly loud in Alex's ears and she turned to see the ambulance pulling into the yard.

'Ambulance is here, Guv,' she said.

'Glad you're 'ere, Bolls. I might not've noticed the bloody big white van otherwise.'

The paramedics rushed over and checked Liam over while Gene gave them a rundown of events. As they lifted him onto the stretcher, he reached out a hand.

'Alex! Alex, I'm sorry-'

'It's ok, Liam,' she said. 'We'll talk about it later.'

'I'm sending uniform to keep an eye on 'im,' Gene said to one of the paramedics. 'Make sure you let admissions know.'

He turned towards her as the ambulance sped away; wiping his hands on the cloth they'd given him. 'Right-'

'You left me!' She said, knowing she was hysterical but unable to calm herself. 'What bloody happened to  _ I'm everywhere Bolly _ ? He was right. Liam. It's not real. None of it. You don't… You're not-'

He pulled her roughly against his body, tilting her head back and covering her mouth with his. The kiss was forceful, aggressive. Explosive. And very definitely real. Burning like a firework. Branding her. She clung to the lapels of his coat; afraid she'd fall without him. Afraid that, like a firework, this would burn too quickly and end. But he merely shifted his attention to her neck, running lips, teeth, tongue over the sensitive flesh.

Finally, he pulled back, catching her gaze and holding it. 'I had to get 'im away, Bolly. The others aren't ready. I had to get him away from 'em.'

'I understand. You needed to keep them safe.'

'Do you, Drakey? Because there's nothin' to stop what just 'appened here happening again.' He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, before glancing away at the darkening sky. 'You know at first I was glad they were all different. Change of pace. Glad of the distraction.'

She ran her hand up his arm. 'I miss them too, Gene. Shaz, Chris, Ray. All of them. Even your bloody Quattro. But these are good people here. Good coppers. They need you.'

'Me, Bolls? Need a nursemaid more like.'

'No. They need you, Gene Hunt.'

'What the bloody hell for?'

'To drive too fast, drink too much and shout too loudly.'

'That all I'm good for?'

'No,' she smiled, ducking her head as she saw his answering smirk. 'You help them the way you helped me. The way you helped Sam. You're their Guv. And I know you won't let them down.'

He gave a quick nod, standing back from her and shoving his hands into his pockets. 'I need you to promise me you're on my side, Alex. We need to be a team.'

'We  _ are _ a team.'

He sniffed. 'Are we, Bolls? You saw 'ow easy it was for DI Stroppy Bollocks to come between us.'

_ Nothing can keep us together. _ The words appeared in her head of their own volition and she found herself muttering the next line. 'We can beat them. Forever and ever.'

He snorted derisively.

'What?' She asked, unable to hide the smile that appeared on her face in response to the glint in his eye.

'Northern flatfoot and a posh mouthy tart? Not exactly hero material, Drake.'

She smiled up at him. 'Oh I don't know, Guv.'

He regarded her seriously for a moment as he lit a cigarette. He took a drag and blew smoke towards the sky, nodding once. 'Right. Come on.’


	14. Nothing Will Help Us

Gene pulled the passenger door open and looked expectantly at Alex. ''op in, Bollykecks. Crime to fight.'

She smirked at him and walked around the car, swinging her hips rather more than was necessary before turning slightly too close to him and ensuring she brushed against him as she slid into the car.

'Tart,' he muttered pushing the door shut behind her and walking back around to the driver's side, tapping his fingers against the bonnet. He dropped his cigarette and ground it into the concrete with his boot before opening the driver's door.

She glanced at him as he got into the car and started it, revving the engine loudly. 'So what's going on?' she asked, moving to pull her seatbelt around herself.

'That's right,' he said, glaring at her hand as it rested on the seatbelt. 'You've been MIA for most of the investigation.'

'I have not!' she insisted, letting the seatbelt go.

'You bloody well 'ave!' he shot back, flooring the accelerator and speeding out of the yard. 'My good friend Smallbrook coughed up an address. I sent that daft bunch of fainting flowers to stake it out a bit, so's I could come and get you.' He pulled the car around a particularly tight turn and the tires squealed in protest.

'Thought you might need me, did you, Guv?'

He glanced at her. 'Thought I might need your particular brand of psychotwattery if the girls're there.'

She nodded. 'Did you know? About Liam, I mean.'

'Don't want to talk about this just now, Bolly.'

'Did you?' she persisted.

'I suspected something was up,' he admitted grudgingly. He pulled the car to a stop at a red light and rested his right arm on the windowsill, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as the fingers of his left hand drummed against the steering wheel. 'I would never've let you go after 'im if I knew Jimbo was knockin' about though, Bolls.'

'I know,' she said softly.

'Came straight after you when I heard.' He looked over and met her eyes, holding her gaze for a moment before pursing his lips a little and looking away as the lights changed.

'How did you find out?'

'Tremaine mentioned he'd seen that pathetic excuse for DI talkin' to a man in a flasher's Mac. I drew me own conclusions. Came to find you.'

'So what do you –'

'Hush up now, Bolls. We're 'ere.'

He pulled the Merc to an almost genteel stop at the kerb and got out, looking around as he pulled his gloves off and shoved them into his coat pocket. Alex got out and followed him over to what she recognized as one of the station pool cars, stamping her feet and zipping her coat up against the cold night air. Simon Tremaine was sitting in the driver's seat with Glenn in the passenger seat.

'Blimey. Turned a bit, 'asn't it?' Gene muttered to Alex, rapping smartly on the passenger window.

'Ma'am. Guv,' Glenn greeted, rolling the window down. 'Bloody freezing out here.'

'Anythin'?' Gene asked gruffly, extracting a flask from his coat pocket and handing it though the open window.

Glenn took a sip and passed it to Tremaine, who took a sip before answering. 'Not much.'

'Where's Sawyer?' Gene asked.

'Alley round the back,' Glenn supplied.

'On 'er own?' Gene asked sharply.

'Have a little faith, Guv,' Tremaine said, sounding hurt. 'Harper's with her.'

'Anyone in or out?' Alex asked, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

'Not this side.'

'Right. Keep 'old of that flask, it's brass bloody monkeys out 'ere. Lady B and I are goin' to 'ave a word with Sawyer and Harper. Keep an eye out.' He turned and strode away, throwing over his shoulder, 'Bolls! Wi' me.'

Alex hurried after him, catching him up as he rounded the corner into an alley that ran behind the terraced houses. Sheena Sawyer was standing by the fence with Harper standing a few metres further down the alley.

'Sawyer,' Gene greeted.

'G-guv?' the young woman said, shivering.

'Bloody hell, woman. Ever think of buyin' a proper coat? You're worse than Bolly.'

'Sorry, Guv. Forgot mine at the station.'

Gene sighed and shrugged out of his Crombie coat. ''ere,' he growled, holding it out to Sheena.

'I can't take your coat, Guv!' Sheena said, shocked.

'Shut up and put it on.'

Alex smirked, but managed to hide it before Gene glanced self-consciously at her. 'Which one are we watching?' she asked.

'One down the end.' Gene said, glancing at Harper as he made his way over. The younger man nodded in greeting. 'Apparently they take the girls there before they do 'em in.'

'Guv!' Alex chided, nodding in Sheena's direction.

'What?' he saw the direction of her nod and rolled his eyes. 'Give over. She's a copper, not a bloody girl guide.'

'You've not got a coat I can borrow have you, Guv?' Harper said, stamping his feet.

Gene raised his eyebrows. 'What do I look like? The Salvation bloody Army?' He caught Alex sending him a disapproving look and relented slightly, holding out yet another flask from his suit jacket. 'Have a nip o' that, Harper. Put 'airs on yer chest. Soft bloody southerner.'

Alex rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but Gene silenced her with a hand on her arm.

''old up,' he whispered. 'What've we got here?'

At the other end of the alley, a patch of shadow was moving closer. It resolved itself into the shape of a familiar man before opening the back gate of one of the houses and slipping into the garden.

'Isn't that Carlisle?' Harper asked.

'If it isn't he's got a twin,' Alex said.

'Right,' Gene said in a hushed voice. 'I'm goin' in. Harper-'

'I'm coming with you,' Alex interrupted.

He looked at her, amusement flashing in his eyes. 'I know that, Bolls. As I was sayin', Harper, I want you at the other end of this alley in case he doubles back. Sawyer, stay 'ere. Radio Tremaine and Glenn and tell 'em what's going on. Bolls, 'ave you got a radio?'

'No.'

'Gun?'

'Um... no,' she admitted.

'Bleedin' Christ, woman. Are you in any way prepared for proper police work today?'

'Got my warrant card, Guv,' she said brightly.

He glared at her. 'Sawyer. Left pocket. Keys to the Merc. Spare gun in the glove box. Run and get it.'

The girl nodded and headed out of the alley. Gene shot a meaningful look at Harper who raised his eyebrows and turned to walk to the other end of the alley.

'You sure you're ready for this, Alex?' Gene asked quietly.

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'That business with Clarke and Keats…' he said, looking down at his boots.

'You came for me,' she said quietly. He glanced up at her from beneath his eyelashes, the half-light of the alley casting his face in a boyish light. 'We stick together, Gene. We'll be fine.' He nodded, pouting slightly, his eyes worried. 'Are you not cold?' Alex asked.

He straightened, his expression becoming scornful and losing its boyish look. 'Don't be ridiculous, Bolly. Course I'm not. Bloody southerners, you're all nesh.'

'Nesh?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Means we feel the cold,' Sheena said, appearing beside Alex and handing her a gun.

'Thank you, Sheena,' Alex smiled, checking the gun over. 'You know you're only supposed to sign one out at a time,' she said to Gene.

'My station, my rules,' Gene snapped, unholstering his own gun and cocking it. 'Besides, you signed it out.'

'I didn't,' Alex said. 'You forged my signature.'

'Can we talk about this later? Preferably when I'm drunk or asleep or just not bloody there?' Gene growled. 'Sawyer, keep yer eyes open. Shall we, Bollykecks?'

They headed down the alley, Alex overtaking Gene and pressing her back against the fence on the opposite side of the gate. Gene glanced at her and nodded as he reached over the gate and opened it.

They made their way through the overgrown garden and to the backdoor of the house. It was open, hanging off its hinges in fact. Gene and Alex shared a look before moving inside. The house was a mess. As they moved through the rooms on each floor, Alex noted that there were the same rudimentary beds they'd seen in the arches in each room, most rooms had more than one.

When they'd finished their sweep of the top floor Gene pulled his radio from his pocket. 'DC Sawyer, come in.'

'Guv?'

'Any sign of 'im?'

'No, Guv.'

'Harper?'

'Negative, Guv.'

Gene took a deep breath but Tremaine pre-empted him. 'Nothing here, either.'

'Well one of you's dropped the bloody ball, 'cos 'e's not in 'ere. Meet us out the front.'

'Is there a cellar?' Alex asked.

Gene raised his eyebrows. ''old up. Bolly's 'ad an epiphany. Stay where you are until you hear from us. Hunt out.' He turned to Alex, who was looking around the room in disgust. 'Disgustin' in 'ere,' he sniffed. 'Keepin' 'em like animals. You ok?'

She turned and saw the concerned look he was giving her. 'It's just…' she trailed off.

'I know. Let's 'ave a look for that cellar shall we?'

They moved back down the stairs. Gene spotted the door to the cupboard under the stairs.

'What d'you reckon?' he murmured, nodding towards it.

Alex nodded mutely and watched as he moved towards the door and pulled it open. Rather than the expected cupboard, there was just a set of steps leading down. Gene and Alex looked at one another, each wondering what to do next when a low whimper reached them. Gene started towards the steps but Alex reached out and grabbed his arm, shaking her head.

He looked at her. 'We have to go down there, Bolls,' he whispered. 'I am  _ not _ losin' another one.'

She held his gaze intently for a moment before nodding and relaxing her grip on his arm slightly, letting her fingers trail over his jacket sleeve as he moved away from her and down the steps. She drew a deep breath and followed.

The cellar was huge, she realised when she reached the bottom step. It must run under several houses and there were a few walls separating areas of the cellar. The smell of damp was almost overwhelming, but was underlined by a strong smell of dust.

Alex felt her skin break out in goosebumps at the memory the smell conjured. Gene's office, covered in dust, the floor sticky with blood. She shook her head to clear it of the dream.

She and Gene crept forwards, towards the sound of the whimpering. Behind one of the breezeblock walls, a young woman cowered against the outer wall of the cellar. Gene scanned the space and nodded to Alex, who holstered her gun and rushed over to the girl, crouching down and putting an arm around her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw something move. Evidently Gene saw it too, he whirled towards it, raising his gun.

'Stop! Police!'

'I didn't know she was here, I swear!' Carlisle stepped into the small circle of light surrounding the girl's bed, his hands raised above his head. He looked dreadful, Alex thought. Unshaven, bloodied, he'd clearly not slept in days.

'What are you doin' 'ere, Carlisle?' Gene asked.

'Looking for Moira,' the man said desperately. 'I need to find Moira.'

'You beat her up! I'm not bloody surprised you can't find her!'

'I didn't! I didn't touch her. I wouldn't.'

'Come off it, Carlisle. You're a pimp.'

'He didn't,' the girl in Alex's arms murmured. 'Danny didn't touch Moira. Or Martha neiver. He looked after us girls.'

'What's yer name, love?' Gene asked, not taking his eyes from Carlisle.

'Tina,' the girl said, her voice almost a sob.

'Tina Eastridge?'

'Yeah.'

Gene nodded and moved towards Carlisle. 'Daniel Carlisle, you're nicked. For the kidnapping of Tina Eastridge, the murder of –'

'He didn't!' Tina wailed.

'Guv-' Alex began, but a gunshot echoed through the cellar and Daniel Carlisle threw himself to the ground.

'Police!' Gene shouted. 'Put your weapon down and step into the light.'

A woman's voice came from the shadows. 'I heard you the first time, DCI Hunt.' A woman stepped into the light and Alex stared at her. It was Moira Allen in twenty years' time, with about ten of those years filled with heavy drinking. Tina Eastridge moved closer to Alex, burrowing her face into Alex's coat and forcing Alex to open her arms wider to accommodate the skinny young woman.

'Lucille Deighton,' Gene said.

'Well bugger me. You  _ are _ a detective.'

'Put the gun down, Mrs Deighton.'

'I don't think so. I think you should put your gun down, Mr Hunt. I think you should put your gun down, take your little woman police officer there and get the 'ell out of my basement.'

'Not a bloody chance,' Gene snapped. 'Why'd you kill those girls, Lucy? Can't imagine your Larry was 'appy about that. You don't kill good livestock do yer?'

'I thought no one would notice. Ain't like you noticed the others disappearing was it? No. 'e ships 'em out of the country and no one bats an eyelid.'

'You  _ killed _ 'em. You killed those girls and left them for me to find.'

'But she couldn't have done,' Alex said. 'Martha Johnson was beaten to death by what had to have been two big men, Guv.'

'You've got sons, 'aven't you Lucy? Twins. Not the brightest but they'd do anythin' for their old mum. We've not been able to find either of the Deighton boys. Looked everywhere for 'em. Come to think of it they're not Larry's either.'

'He'd been at them!' Lucille spat. 'At the girls. I heard one of them was pregnant.'

'She didn't know which one,' Carlisle said from the floor. 'Moira let slip that he'd been spending time with Martha and Tina.'

'And Tanya Jules?' Alex asked.

'She was a friend of Martha's.'

'I couldn't let that slut have my husband's baby!' Lucille almost screamed.

'Why did Moira implicate Carlisle when she came to see us?' Gene asked, shifting position slightly so he could easily see both Carlisle and Lucille.

'She knows where her loyalty lies,' Lucille snarled.

'You threatened her,' Gene said, his tone darkened with disgust. 'Yer own daughter.'

'Where  _ is _ Moira, Lucille?' Alex asked.

'Shut your filthy mouth,' Lucille snapped, switching her target from Gene to Alex.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion for Alex. Gene started towards her but Carlisle was pulling himself off the floor, his face a mask of fear. Alex gently pushed Tina away from herself, rising to her feet even as Carlisle reached her, slamming her into the wall and hitting her head as the sound of a gunshot once more filled the cellar.

As Alex lost consciousness she was aware of a continuous hoarse scream from Tina. The sensation of falling backwards combined with the sound of the gunshot and mingled with the smell of damp as she spiralled into unconsciousness.


	15. We Could Be Safer

Alex came to, her head pounding. Her hand felt sticky and she brought it up in front of her eyes, fighting down panic as she realised it was covered in blood. Dreaming. She was dreaming. Blood on her hands was part of the dream. 

The dreams were always at the station though, weren’t they? Usually she was in the warmth and familiarity of Gene’s office, albeit covered in dust. This place was cold, didn’t have the stale smoke and coffee smell of CID. And the blood was usually much older, whereas this blood was fresh, bright red on her hands. This was real. 

Alex sat up and saw Gene lying on the floor a foot or so away. She crawled over to him and felt her stomach turn over. He was lying on his front in a pool of blood. Far too much blood to lose and live, surely. Her hand had been trailing in it. She turned him over, visions of the young police officer he’d been assaulting her. The boy Gene had once been with half his head blown away by a shotgun. 

When she got him onto his back she sobbed in relief, then had to bite back a cry of despair. The shot hadn't hit his head, but his shirtfront was covered in blood. She ripped it open, her fingers struggling with the soaking wet material. 

She found the wound at the top of his chest and pressed her hands to it, desperate to stop the bleeding. She cast her eyes around the room, looking for help. Tina Eastridge was huddled in a corner again, hiding her face in her hands and shaking uncontrollably. Carlisle was leaning against the wall he’d pushed Alex into as he shoved her out of the way, the bullet hole in the wall beside him testament to her debt to him. He was holding a gun in shaking hands, aiming it at a spot beyond Alex. 

She followed his gaze and saw Lucille Deighton had propped herself up against the wall, one arm hanging loosely at her side, her sleeve stained with blood. That would be her gun in Daniel Carlisle’s unsteady grip, then. And that would be Gene’s shot that had taken her down and knocked it out of her hand.

‘’e didn’t kill me,’ she said quietly, looking at Gene’s prone form with dull eyes. ‘’ave I killed ‘im?’

‘Shut up!’ Alex said, forcing her gaze back to Gene. She pressed harder at the wound, finally eliciting a growl from her DCI.

‘Ow! Give over!’ he said, his eyes snapping open. 

‘You're bleeding,’ she said numbly.

‘You'll make a detective yet,’ he said, but his tone lacked its usual derision. He closed his eyes again, lashes dark against his pale cheeks. 

‘Open your eyes!’ she ordered, panicking.

‘Piss off, Bolls. ‘m tired,’ he murmured.

‘You have to stay awake, Gene. Keep talking to me.’ She glanced at Carlisle. ‘How long was I unconscious?’ When he didn’t answer, she raised her voice slightly, speaking slowly and clearly to quell the desperate scream she could feel burning in her chest. ‘Daniel. How long?’

‘Minute or so,’ he murmured. 

‘Ma'am? We were worried - Oh my god. Is he…’ 

Alex looked up to see Sheena at the foot of the cellar stairs, still wearing Gene’s coat. ‘He’s all right,’ she said, forcing herself to be calm. ’He's been shot. Radio for an ambulance please, Sheena. He’s all right,’ she repeated, ignoring the younger woman’s look of terror. ‘He’s all right.’ She looked down at Gene, who had taken advantage of her lack of attention to lapse into unconsciousness. ‘Wake up!’ She slapped his cheek, none too lightly.

His eyes opened and she was shocked at how dull they were. Twin pools of suddenly depthless blue wandered to hers and his forehead creased as though he didn’t recognize her. 

‘Don’ you bloody hit me,’ he slurred, closing his eyes again.

‘Then don’t  _ you _ dare give up!’ she hissed. ‘I came back here for  you,  Gene Hunt. You could at least have the bloody decency to stay put!’ He didn’t respond and Alex felt her eyes fill with tears as her throat began to burn. She looked over her shoulder towards Sheena and saw Tremaine, Harper and Glenn standing behind the young woman, staring at the scene before them. ‘Where’s that bloody ambulance, Sawyer?’ 

Sheena raised the radio again to check on the status of the ambulance and Alex turned her attention to her male colleagues. ‘Simon, that’s Lucille Deighton. Arrest her for the murder of Martha and Tanya, the kidnapping of Tina Eastridge and for shooting DCI Hunt. Get Carlisle out of here and put him in a cell, no charges as yet but I don’t want him going anywhere. And that’s Tina Eastridge. Get her somewhere safe.’ 

‘Two minutes,’ Sheena said, moving towards Alex as Tremaine moved to Lucille Deighton’s side, Glenn gently but firmly took the gun from Daniel Carlisle and Harper gently led Tina Eastridge up the stairs. 

‘Two minutes?’ Alex repeated. ‘Did you tell them it was him? Did you tell them he’s a police officer?’ 

‘Yes ma’am,’ the younger woman said, her eyes not straying from Gene’s still form. 

Too still, Alex realized, suddenly. The irregular motion of his chest had slowed almost to a complete stop. ‘Guv! You can’t die. Your team needs you, Gene, please wake up.’ 

‘He’s not breathing,’ Sheena said, her voice almost a moan. ‘Ma’am, the Guv’s not-‘

Alex ran her fingers over Gene’s throat, feeling for a pulse and finding none. ‘Come here,’ she snapped. ‘Put pressure on the wound. Stop the bleeding.’ As an almost sobbing Sheena pressed both hands to the wound in Gene’s chest, Alex rose up on her knees and started chest compressions. 

As she worked she kept up a constant stream of murmured words, barely aware she was doing it. ‘Don’t you  _ dare _ , Gene. You can’t die like this. We need you. I don’t know how to do this, how to be here without you. I don’t know-‘ she broke off and began to administer mouth to mouth, pressing her lips to his in a horrible parody of a kiss. ‘I need you. You can’t die. You can’t leave me here.’ 

‘‘lex…’ 

Alex gave a short bark of relief as he murmured her name. She sat back and stared at him, watching his chest move as he sucked in air. 

Sheena was almost sobbing and a part of Alex's mind wondered at that briefly before remembering Shaz. How she’d been the first one to come back from Keats. How she'd sought comfort from the man who seemed most unlikely when she’d gone undercover. The man who spent his days berating and belittling her. She’d bypassed both Alex and Chris and gone to Gene, curling into his chest and sobbing as he wrapped his arms around her. Seeking approval as much as comfort. A tiny part of her wondered what Molly would have made of Gene. 

Dismissing the thought, she leaned forwards, taking over from Sheena as the younger woman sat back, wiping her eyes on Gene’s coat sleeve. A hand on Alex’s shoulder pulled her back and she fought against it. ‘No! Leave me.’ 

‘Come away now, Inspector. Let us take over.’ 

She looked up and saw two paramedics standing behind her. ‘He’s been shot in the chest,’ she said uselessly, rising and moving back a step to let them get closer to Gene. 

*

Tremaine and Glenn joined Alex and Sheena as the ambulance doors were pulled closed and it screamed away into the night. 

‘Lucille and Carlisle have been packed off to the station. Tina Eastridge is with Harper and a couple of WPCs in the café down the road,’ Tremaine said. He nodded in the direction the ambulance had taken. ‘You not going with him, ma'am?’ 

‘Someone's got to drive the Merc to the hospital.’ She said, unable to explain the sudden terror that had seized her at the idea of climbing into the ambulance. 

Tremaine nodded. ‘He'll go mad if he wakes up and it’s not there.‘ 

Alex nodded, remembering Gene throwing the car between herself and Clarke, climbing out of it like a dark avenging angel. For a moment, the cool blue had flashed a vibrant red in the setting sun, forcing her memory back three years. Had that really been less than two hours ago? 

‘I'll drive you,’ Tremaine offered. 

‘No,’ Alex said slowly, tearing her gaze away from the trailing blue lights. ‘No, it’s all right. I want you to go back to the station and question Daniel Carlisle, I don’t think he’s our man but he definitely knows something.' She filled them in on what she and Gene had heard in the cellar, finishing with, ‘I want to question Lucille Deighton myself. Call me at the hospital once she’s been patched up.’ 

‘What should we do with Tina?’ Glenn asked. 

‘Take her to the station. Make her comfortable but make sure a WPC is with her at all times. Sheena, I’d like you to sit in when I interview her.’ 

‘I’m sure we can handle the interviews, Alex,’ Tremaine said kindly. ‘You know, if you want to stay with the Guv.’ 

‘I’ll be there,’ Alex said firmly. 

Tremaine nodded and he and Glenn made their way over to their pool car. 

‘Are you sure you want to go to the hospital alone?’ Sheena asked, handing Alex the keys to the Merc. 

Alex gave the younger woman a small smile she could feel didn’t reach her eyes and squeezed her shoulder slightly. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at the station.’ Sheena nodded and Alex turned towards the Merc. 

‘Ma’am,’ Sheena called. ‘He will be ok, won’t he?’ 

Alex turned back to face the younger woman, forcing another smile onto her face. ‘Course he will. It’ll take more than that to stop him, don’t you think?’ 

The woman nodded, suddenly looking much younger than she actually was and Alex found herself wanting to hug her, to promise her it would be all right. But she couldn’t move. Afraid that if she did the tenuous control she had would snap and she’d collapse. So she turned and got into the Merc, watching in the rearview mirror as Sheena got into the pool car and it headed off in the direction of the station. 


	16. We Can Be Heroes

When Alex walked into a relatively quiet station at three AM, the desk sergeant looked at her expectantly. Obviously, word had gotten around. She offered him a tight smile and a small nod before moving past him, desperate to get through the main body of the station without being questioned.

They'd taken Gene straight into surgery on arrival at the hospital and she'd spent the next few hours sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, clutching his car keys in her hand so tightly there were still marks on her fingers and palm.

She'd jumped to her feet as they wheeled him out of theatre, barely catching sight of him as they took him to his hospital room. A doctor had spoken to her at length, using words like 'touch and go' and 'observation' before managing to snare her attention with 'coma'.

'Coma?' she'd asked, focusing on him for the first time.

'Yes, Detective Inspector. He's under sedation now, but there is some concern that he may not wake once that wears off. His system has suffered significant trauma.'

'But he was awake before. So the prognosis is good. Isn't it?' she'd asked, hating herself for the fearful note in her voice. She'd almost been able to hear Gene's scorn. _ You’re a police officer _ ,  _ not Joe bloody Public. Stop embarrassin' me and show some balls, Drakey. _

'He's strong,' the doctor said. 'And the operation to clean him up went well but I'd be wary of giving a prognosis until we've seen what the next 24 hours holds.'

'Can I see him?'

'He's unconscious, Inspector,' the doctor said.

The use of her title had reminded Alex that – to him at least – she was just a police officer enquiring after her superior. 'Please?'

He'd tilted his head to one side, considering. 'Usually we would only allow family, but-'

'Thank you,' she'd said hurriedly, smiling at him in what must have been a rather distracted manner.

She stayed in Gene's room for about two hours, sitting by his bed and staring at him, barely blinking as her eyes tracked over his unconscious form. The reassuring beep of the ECG had lulled her into a kind of waking sleep. Ninety minutes later, a nurse had come in to check on Gene and broken the spell.

After leaving instructions for them to contact her if there was any change in his condition Alex had made her way down to the car park and climbed into the driver's seat of the Merc, sitting with her hands in her lap and staring – unseeing – through the windscreen. After a few moments the tears had broken free and her body had been wracked with vicious sobs.

Once she'd calmed down she started the car, feeling a small flash of amusement at the thought of what Gene would say if he knew she'd been crying in the Merc.

As she approached the doors to CID, she drew in a breath. It would be empty at this time of night, but she'd felt unable to go home, needing to be here instead. She pushed the doors open and was greeted with the unexpected sight of the entire team slumped at their desks in various states of consciousness. She stood in the doorway staring at the sight before her, avoiding looking at Gene's office.

Simon Tremaine looked up, rubbing the sleep from his face. 'Ma'am? Any news?'

Alex gave herself a mental shake before walking to her desk and sitting down. 'He's stable, but still unconscious.'

Tremaine nodded. 'Hospital phoned and left a message. DI Clarke's fine.'

Alex ignored the question in his eyes and shuffled the papers on her desk.

When it became apparent she wasn't going to answer, Tremaine continued, 'Ma Deighton's in the cells, as is Carlisle. Tina's gone home with Harper and WPC Yates.'

'Home?'

'Harper's flat. We thought it'd be more comfortable than the station.'

Alex was about to protest but thought back to the cellar and decided that Tina was definitely due a little comfort. She glanced around, noting that the rest of the team were awake now, watching her carefully. 'I really appreciate you all staying but you should go home and get some sleep. There's not much else for us to do tonight.' When they didn't move, she smiled tightly. 'I mean it. I want you all in tiptop condition tomorrow. Let's get this case closed, shall we?' she finished brightly, well aware that she was fooling no one.

One by one, they filed out of the room, Sheena giving her a smile as she passed Alex's desk.

Once they'd gone, Alex let her gaze travel over the room, still careful not to look directly at Gene's office. For the first time since she'd come back, she allowed herself to see the people who  _ had _ occupied the room. Chris, shovelling crisps into his mouth and fiddling with a tape recorder. Ray, reading a wildly inappropriate magazine and attempting to get Chris's attention, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. And Shaz, typing away furiously and sending frequent disparaging glances at her colleagues.

As Alex finally allowed her attention to move to Gene's office the others faded and she saw Gene himself, feet up on the desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up and dart in hand, poised to throw. With him gone CID lost its life, its security. She felt as though anyone could walk in and take over. She felt alone here, as though she was on thin ice with a great gaping maw clearly visible below and no one to pull her back to safety.

She stood and moved through CID, slipping into Gene's darkened office and closing the door soundlessly behind her. She drew in a deep breath, relieved that there was no trace of dust in the room's usual smell of whiskey, cigarettes and Gene's aftershave. His coat was hanging on the coat rack and she moved towards it, pulling it down and pressing it to her face, breathing deeply.

Carrying the coat with her, she moved around the desk and sat down in Gene's chair, pulling his coat over her shoulders as she flipped open the Deighton / Allen case file on Gene's desk and started reading.

*

The next morning she awoke to the smell of strong coffee. Sheena was standing on the other side of Gene's desk, about to put a mug of steaming coffee down on the desk.

'Morning, ma'am,' the young woman said quietly.

'Morning?' Alex repeated, glancing out of the window at the still-dark sky. She sat up, feeling Gene's coat slide down over her shoulders slightly.

'It's nearly seven,' Sheena said. 'Not light just yet.' She handed Alex the coffee and stood back. 'The others'll be in soon, we wanted to get in for half seven.'

'You're early,' Alex said, taking a sip of the coffee.

'I wanted to make sure you were all right,' Sheena said, directing her gaze at the desktop.

'How did you know I'd –' Alex began, breaking off at the knowing look in Sheena's eyes. She'd fallen asleep in Gene's chair with his coat wrapped around her, after all.

'Why don't you pop over the road and get changed, ma'am?' the younger woman said gently.

'Yes,' Alex said, rising. 'I'll do that, then we'll start the interviews.' Feeling very self-conscious, she hung Gene's coat up and moved towards the door. 'Thank you, Sheena,' she said.

A smile spread over Sheena's face. 'No problem.'

*

'Can you confirm that you have waived your right to counsel?'

Lucille Deighton nodded.

'For the benefit of the tape, Mrs Deighton confirms she has waived her right to legal counsel,' Alex said.

'Is he all right?' Lucille asked. 'Your DCI. I didn't mean to shoot 'im. Was just angry.'

'You've been angry a lot recently, Lucille,' Alex said coldly. She nodded to Tremaine, who began placing pathology photographs on the table. 'Martha Johnson and Tanya Jules. Beaten to death and suffocated, respectively. Why don't you tell me what happened?'

'I told you. 'e'd been puttin' it about,' Lucille said. 'Can I 'ave a fag?'

'No,' Alex said. 'This would be your husband, Lawrence Deighton.'

'Yeah. That wanker. Got one of the girls pregnant. I snapped, didn't I? I lost our only baby five years back. Was too old really, I s'pose. But it meant a lot to 'im. Fifteen years, we've been married. My sons've got 'is name. And 'e goes and does this to me.'

'So you went after the girls?' Simon said.

She smiled grimly. 'You think I'd 'ave done better to go after 'im.' She shook her head. 'Couldn't do it. I love 'im.' She paused. 'The bastard.' She narrowed her eyes at Alex. 'You married, Inspector?'

'No,' Alex said.

'Got a fella though, 'aven't you? You love 'im. Makes you do things you never thought you would, don't it?'

Alex stared at her a moment, the memory of Mrs Irvine struggling to make Gene understand her affair with Super Mac.  _ Sometimes love is very dark and dangerous and leaves you not liking yourself very much.  _ Her own words, spoken directly to Gene almost a year later.  _ Sometimes in life, you can't help which way you fall. _

'We have information that your husband and your daughter had an argument,' she said. 'He said – and I quote – that if she didn't "do her bit her mum wouldn't be able to save her". What did that mean if he wasn't involved?'

'Dunno. You'd 'ave to ask Moira.'

'Where  _ is _ Moira?'

'No idea. Your job to find out I s'pose. While you're at it, find out where 'e's been sendin' all them other girls.'

*<strike></strike>

Alex sat down heavily at her desk, exchanging a glance with Sheena Sawyer.

'So Tina Eastridge is pregnant,' Sheena said, sitting down at her own desk.

'Yep,' Alex said. 'Lawrence Deighton's baby. Poor woman. Martha and Tanya were protecting her and they got in the way of Lucille's jealous rage.'

'Doesn't seem right, somehow,' Sheena said. Alex gave her a look and she hastened to add, 'I know it's not right. Murder. But I mean – they died and she didn't even know if it was them. Mrs Deighton.'

'She'll plead diminished responsibility if she's got any sense,' Alex said, nodding. She frowned. 'Bit of a catch-22, though,' she added thoughtfully.

Sheena opened her mouth to ask what Alex meant but was interrupted as the doors to CID swung open, admitting Martin Glenn and Simon Tremaine.

'Carlisle doesn't know much,' Tremaine said. 'He's a bit of a mess, actually. Worried about Moira. Turns out he wasn't involved.'

'Doesn't match her statement,' Sheena said.

'That's what we said,' Glenn said wryly.

'What was his response?' Alex asked.

'He thinks Deighton – Lawrence Deighton – put her up to it. Maybe he was on to what his wife was up to, thought it would interfere with his own operation, and wanted to throw Carlisle to the wolves. Had a quick chat with  _ Mrs  _ Deighton and she backed him up.'

'His own operation?' Alex asked.

'Looks like human trafficking, ma'am,' Tremaine said.

'Oh, the Guv's going to  _ love  _ that,' Alex murmured.

'Have you heard from the hospital then?' Simon asked.

'Oh,' Alex said, realizing she'd spoken without thinking. 'No. Not yet. But no news is good news,' she added, her tone filled with forced brightness she knew they could see right through.

Luckily, the doors opened before anyone could speak and Bammo and Harper walked in, followed closely by Moira Allen.

'Look who we found visiting the Guv at the 'ospital,' Bammo said.

'I heard what happened,' Moira said. 'Had to see for myself.' She turned to Alex, tears in her eyes. 'I'm so sorry! I never wanted any of this. I was just –'

'Scared,' Alex finished.

'He said he'd kill me! Kill Daniel.'

'Hang on, weren't you the one trying to get Daniel arrested for kidnapping?' Tremaine asked.

'He wasn't supposed to be there!' she wailed. 'At the warehouse. I thought you'd follow the clues and find Lawrence. That's why I came to this station. I was s'posed to go to Bethnal Green.'

'But you wanted us to investigate,' Alex said softly.

'Your DCI's straight. Everyone knows that. Lawrence couldn't get to 'im.'

Alex looked away. 'It was your mother, Moira. Your mother killed those girls.'

The girl looked miserable. 'I know. 'e explained all that on the way over,' she nodded at Harper. 'Can't believe it.'

'Where did you go?' Glenn asked.

Before Moira could respond, Alex rose. 'Let's do this in interview, shall we?'

* 

Alex awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes to the sterile environment of Gene's hospital room. She looked up to see Gene standing over her, wearing an irritated expression and all his clothes except his suit jacket. She glanced at her watch. Two thirty AM. She'd been here four hours.

'Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Bolls,' Gene said. 'Thought you might be more comfortable at home.'

'How long have you been awake?' she asked, stretching slightly.

''bout 'alf an hour,' he said, stretching his arm out and attempting to button his cuff. He winced as the movement pulled at the stitches on his chest. Alex got to her feet and reached for his wrist. He tried to move away. 'I don't need-'

'Let me,' she said, glancing up at him. 'Please?' He pouted but let her take his wrist. 'You've been unconscious for two days, Gene. You're supposed to stay in for observation.'

'I might be, but you're not.'

She glanced up at him briefly then looked back down and took his other wrist. 'I wasn't going to leave you here on your own.'

'Hmm. You've not been 'ere the entire two days I hope? Like to think  _ someone's  _ been keepin' an eye on things at the station.'

'Solved the case.'

'I think you'll find that was me, shortly before I ended up in 'ere.'

She smiled and dropped his wrist. 'What are we going to do about Liam?' she asked.

'Can that wait until tomorrow? I'm bloody knackered.'

'Tomorrow?' she repeated. 'You can't seriously be thinking of going back to work so soon?'

'I'm fine, Bolly. Been shot before,' he said, turning away and picking up his bloodied suit jacket from the bed. She winced as she saw it. She'd brought a clean shirt from her flat but couldn't find a spare suit jacket.

'I know that, but-'

'But nothing, woman. Stop fussin'.'

'Fussing? You stopped breathing, Gene!' she said, hearing the break in her own voice and wishing she had controlled it better.

He turned towards her and studied her face intently. 'Come 'ere,' he said reaching out with his right hand and catching her wrist and pulling her gently towards him.

She offered some token resistance before allowing him to pull her into his arms, feeling him press his lips against her forehead. She slid her hand up his chest to rest over his heart, feeling it beating against her palm.

'It's still goin', Bolls,' he murmured. She nodded against his chest. 'You mean what you said?' he asked, his voice still unusually quiet.

'About what?' she asked, glancing up at him.

'You bloody know what. The reason you came back.'

'Oh,  _ that _ . Of course. Why? What did you think?'

'You know if I'm bein' honest I was startin' to wonder. Since you came back I've been shot twice, Bolly.' He glanced down at her face. 'No smile? Not even a sarky comment? Blimey. You  _ are _ tired. Let's get you 'ome.'

'Gene-' she said, stepping back.

He sighed, suddenly seeming much more exhausted. 'I hate 'ospitals. I just want to go home, Bolls.'

She regarded him for a moment before nodding. 'All right. But I'm driving.'

'You are not!' he shot back.

'It's either that or you can use public transport,' she said sternly.

'Bugger that. Gene Hunt does  _ not _ get the bus.' When she showed no sign of quailing under his glare he pouted. 'Fine. But if it gets out I let a bird drive me 'ome I'll 'ave you in my office so fast your feet won't touch the bloody ground.'

'I should think it would have to be fast if you 'had' me in your office, Guv. The walls are made of glass.' She turned and preceded him out of the room, aware that he was staring at her.

He caught up with her. 'Dangerous words to a man who's gone without fer a few days, Bolls.'

She smirked up at him. 'You're in no condition to even be thinking about that, Gene.'

'Part of me disagrees with you there, Saucy Knickers.'

'How quaint. Is it a large part?'

'I've yet to 'ear complaints.'

'Your place or mine?' she asked.

'Definitely yours, Bolly. 's closer.'

'You'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow.'

'Well see, Bolls. Now shift.'

* 

Two days later, Alex was standing outside the station, about to go in. She'd discovered the only way to keep Gene from the station was to stay home herself. Luckily she'd been able to keep him somewhat occupied, although they'd had to be pretty inventive, given the fact that he was recovering from a not-insignificant injury.

She'd convinced him to go home that morning to rest up for his return to work – against doctor's orders – the next day. Or she thought she had, until she heard the screech of tyres behind her.

'Bolly!'

She turned and her mouth dropped open. Gene was leaning across the passenger seat of the Merc and looking at her out of the window. But instead of the silver-blue she'd come to recognize it was a bold, brash red. A red she knew well.

'Get in. We've 'ad a lead.'

'Re-spray, Guv?' she asked, walking over and running a hand over the bonnet.

He sat back as she opened the door. 'Wasn't particularly partial to the other colour if I'm honest.'

'I quite liked the blue,' she said, sliding in to the passenger seat. 'Same colour as your eyes.'

He looked away from her, his lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. 'Soppy tart.'

'But Quattro red... definitely more  _ you _ .'

He revved the engine and the car screamed out of the car park.

Alex glanced over at him. 'You shouldn't be driving, you know. Not with your arm.'

'I'm not. I'm drivin' with my 'ands and feet.'

'You were shot.'

He looked at her strangely a moment before thankfully returning his attention to the road. 'Don't seem to remember that being an issue last night.'

'At least slow down!' she said, bracing herself against the door as he threw the car around a corner.

'Don't remember that coming up either.'

She rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore him for the moment. 'I spoke to Liam,' she said.

'Oh yeah?' he asked, his tone switching seamlessly from smug flirtation to hard-nosed copper in an instant. 'Do enlighten me.'

'It was definitely Keats he was talking to. We should look into that.'

'All in good time, Bollykecks. Right now, we've got a little human trafficking caper to look into. I want that bastard Deighton's 'ead on a plate.' He glanced over at her. 'Trust the Gene Genie, Bolls. Keats'll keep trying to get in, but it won't 'appen.'

'I'm just worried that we might run out of time with them,' she said, glancing over at him. When he didn't respond, she added, 'The team. We might lose one of them and –'

'We don't get allotted time, Alex,' Gene said. 'Any time we've got 'ere is stolen in any case. And that slimy bastard Keats doesn't stand a chance. Not while we're a team.'

She regarded him in silence for a moment. 'How's your shoulder?'

'Bolly I need a DI, not a bloody mother 'en.'

'Gene.'

'I've ingested enough painkillers to knock out a small horse and drunk a medicinal amount of scotch,' he snapped. 'Now will you leave it alone?'

'How urgent is this lead? Are we chasing someone?'

'Nope. Just an interview. But I 'ave an idea-'

'Pull the car over,' she said, cutting him off.

'What?'

'Pull over. That alley there,' she said, pointing.

Muttering under his breath, Gene swung the car into the alley and turned to look at her. 'What's got your knickers in a twist?' he asked.

She moved over, grateful for the space afforded by the Merc – this would never have been possible in the Quattro – and climbed into his lap, careful not to press on his shoulder.

He frowned at her, even as he reached under his seat and pressed the lever, moving the seat back to accommodate her. 'What the bloody 'ell are you up to, Madame Fruitcake?'

She leaned forward and kissed him, running her tongue over his lower lip until he opened his mouth and then tangling her tongue with his, tasting coffee and cigarettes and  _ him. _

When they broke apart for air he smirked at her. 'You know, Bolls, this could be construed as wasting police time.'

She ran her hands over his chest and began to loosen his tie. 'Oh, I don't intend to waste any more time, Guv.'

'So you're still plannin' to stick around, then?' he asked, watching her through narrowed eyes as she pulled his tie free from his collar.

She opened her mouth to respond but the radio squawked behind her, cutting her off. She raised her eyebrows at Gene and picked it up, 'DI Drake.'

Simon Tremaine's voice came through along with a lot of static. 'Is the Guv there?'

'He's here.'

'We've had a sighting of Lawrence Deighton. Down in Shadwell.'

Gene sighed. 'Can't believe I'm gonna say this Bolls, but 'old that thought.' He took the radio from her as she slid out of his lap and back into the passenger seat, eliciting a groan from him as she moved. 'Tease,' he growled before raising the radio to his mouth. 'What the bloody 'ell are you on about Simon? I thought your source told you Deighton'd done a runner?'

'Apparently not, Guv.'

'Reliable little weasel, isn't he? Give us a location.'

'How did he know to radio you?' Alex asked. 'You're not supposed to be back at work until tomorrow.'

Gene tapped his nose. 'Trade secret Bolly. Can't 'ave you knowin' my every move. It'll destroy that air of mystery that makes you so hot under the collar.' He turned his attention back to the radio. 'Oi! Simple Simon. You got an address or am I supposed to take Bolly 'ere on a sightseein' tour of bloody Shadwell?'

'Sorry Guv,' Simon said. He gave them the address of a café and Gene replaced the radio, leaning over the back of Alex's seat and reversing out of the alley.

As they drove, Gene's question echoed in Alex's mind. S _ o you're still plannin' to stick around, then? _ She looked out at the cold, gritty reality of 1980s East London. The world that she'd chosen, every bit as willingly as Sam Tyler had. When she'd first arrived she'd been blinkered by her own fear, her idea that this place revolved solely around her, the people in it mere constructions of her terrified psyche.

Gene had worried her then. That her psyche would call him up, fully formed and impossible to predict had frightened her.

_ And I believed in you. More than that – _

She'd left the sentence unfinished then, and even now wasn't certain if he'd caught the unspoken words, or whether she'd wanted him to.

Still. Time to work that out. And after that – the pub. A thought occurred to her and she looked over at Gene. 'You said Keats was barred, but you weren't.'

'What?' he asked, swerving around a van that had pulled out in front of them.

'From the pub.'

'Well I'm not. Not likely to get barred from me own bloody boozer, am I?'

'Will you go?' she asked, ignoring his attempt to finish the conversation.

He glanced at her. 'I go where I'm needed.'

'So when you're not needed here anymore..?' she pressed.

'Bloody women,' he growled. 'Nag. Nag. Bloody nag. Yes, Bolly, when I'm not needed 'ere anymore I'll come wi' you.' He stopped the car with a screech of burning rubber and got out.

'Is this it?' she asked, climbing out of the car and looking around. They'd stopped outside a rundown café in the midst of an industrial estate.

'You 'avin' second thoughts about stoppin' 'ere, Alex?'

She turned and saw he was leaning against the Merc, his hands resting on the roof. 'You're not getting rid of me that easily, Gene,' she said, walking around the car to stand in front of him.

'No?' he asked. 'Shame.'

She looked up at him, surprised to see him smiling at her. She smiled back at him. 'I can see this is going to be a problem for you.'

'You know I'm sure I'll soldier on some'ow, Bolly.'

'Somehow,' she agreed, nodding.

He sniffed, his expression sobering. 'As long as you keep buyin' those French knickers and wigglin' that delectable arse in my direction I'll give it me best shot.'

She opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off. ''scuse me, Bolly,' he said, moving her to one side and stepping forwards smoothly, grabbing the arm of a man who had just exited the café and throwing him over the bonnet of the Merc. 'Well, if it isn't my old chum Larry.'

Alex stepped forwards, holding her warrant card out so the man could see it with his face pressed into the bonnet. 'Lawrence Deighton, I am arresting you on suspicion of human trafficking. You do not have to say anything-'

'Oh bloody hell,' Gene said. 'What I believe my esteemed lady colleague is tryin' to say is: you're nicked. Nothin' you say will go any way to convincin' me you're not a complete and utter waste of oxygen. So keep yer bloody gob shut!'

Tremaine and Sawyer pulled up alongside the Merc and got out as Gene was cuffing Deighton.

'Nice o' you two to show up. You were at the wrong bloody café!' Gene said, pulling Deighton to his feet and pushing him towards Tremaine's car.

'Sorry, Guv. Uniform've picked up the Deighton boys.'

'Blimey,' Gene said to Deighton as he pushed him into the back of Tremaine's car. 'Well at least you won't be lonely inside, Larry. Your whole bloody family'll be in there with yer.'

*

They pulled up outside the station and Gene and Alex watched as Tremaine and Glenn pulled Deighton out of the car.

'Take 'im in,' Gene said. 'See 'e's fed and watered. I want 'im nice and well rested when I interview 'im tomorrow mornin'.'

As Alex watched them walk up the station steps she looked over at Gene. He was leaning against the Merc, long legs crossed in front of him, his shirt undone at the collar in the absence of a tie. 'Tomorrow, Guv?'

'Mmm,' he said, watching her as she moved towards him.

'Not today?'

'Nope,' he said, pulling her against himself and turning so he was pressing her against the car. 'Thought I might 'ave the afternoon off.'

'What about your lead?'

'It'll keep.'

'Really? Is there a match on?' she asked.

'No.'

'Darts tournament?'

'No,' he said, inclining his head slightly.

'Bar that needs propping up?' she murmured as she leaned into him. 'Have you  _ ever _ had an afternoon off?'

'I'm an injured man, Bolls,' he said, brushing his lips against hers. 'What would you recommend?'

'Bed rest,' she said. 'Lots of bed rest. With good company.'

'What a brilliant, filthy mind you do 'ave, Inspector,' he growled approvingly, sweeping her up into his arms and heading for the stairs up to her flat.


	17. For Ever and Ever

Alex awoke from a dreamless sleep just as the winter sun was attempting to make an appearance and turned over to find Gene still asleep beside her. She felt a soft smile spread over her face, relieved to see that the tension she’d seen in him since she’d been back had faded. She’d only ever seen him this relaxed on a few occasions in all the time she’d known him. 

In the growing morning light, everything about him seemed… gentler; his features more open, his posture relaxed. Even his hair seemed somehow blonder, a lock of it breaking free and falling over his forehead. From Sam Tyler’s account, she knew Gene had been much more at ease in Manchester, had laughed that much more, his emotions lying closer to the surface, more easily accessible. 

But Sam had left, his marriage had broken down and Alex had found a very different Gene Hunt in London. Darker, angrier, more aloof. She remembered a conversation she’d once had with Ray and Chris about the decision to move to London. 

_ ‘So he asked you to move to London and you both just followed him. Like good little dogs. How does he do that?’ Alex said, slurring slightly as the wine warmed her blood.  _

_ Ray stopped staring at the blonde at the next table and looked at Alex. ‘Weren’t like that.’  _

_ ‘No?’  _

_ ‘You don’t know ‘im, boss. Ma’am.’ Chris said. ‘He weren’t even gonna tell me and Ray.’  _

_ Alex sat up, her interest piqued. ‘Really?’  _

_ Ray shook his head, taking a drag on his cigarette. ‘’e didn’t come to the darts match against B division one night.’  _

_ ‘Not like him,’ Alex observed drily.  _

_ ‘No,’ Chris agreed. ‘Well… ‘is missus’d gone by then so we thought ‘e might be with a bird, like.’  _

_ ‘So, anyway,’ Ray said loudly, giving Chris a look which Alex pointedly ignored. ‘After we lost the match, me an’ Chris went back to the station to raid the Guv’s scotch an’ ‘e was there, packin’ up his office. I asked ‘im what the bloody ‘ell was goin’ on. Told us ‘e was transferrin’ down ‘ere.’  _

_ ‘He said it weren’t the same after Sam died,’ Chris added.  _

_ ‘I asked why ‘e didn’t tell us,’ Ray said.  _

_ ‘And? What did he say?’  _

_ ‘Raymondo,’ Chris said in a passable impression of Gene. ‘Didn’t want you two gettin’ all teary eyed. I’ve already ‘ad to comfort bloody Phyllis. A situation I won’t be repeatin’ with you two tarts.’  _

_ Ray nodded. ‘We told ‘im not to be daft, we were comin’ with ‘im.’  _

_ ‘What did he say?’ Alex asked, glancing over at Gene’s brooding figure, propping up the bar. Even now, she could see the remembered hurt on Ray's face and wondered why Gene would think he had to go off alone. Why he’d think he  _ ** _could_ ** _ .  _

_ ‘The usual,’ Ray said, sitting back. ‘Told us not to be so bloody Dorothy and left. Didn’t say anythin’ when we were waitin’ by ‘is car the next mornin’ though.’  _

And now they were gone. The people who had known him best – the people he trusted – were gone. They’d all left him in one fell swoop. 

_ Except me _ , Alex thought.  _ I came back.  _

She allowed her eyes to track over his duvet-covered form until she reached his chest. As her eyes moved over the bandage on his upper chest, she felt a frown form on her forehead, darkening her good mood. The image of him, lying pale and still on the floor of the cellar they’d found Tina Eastridge in floated to the surface of her mind and she felt panic rise in her throat. She shook her head to dispel it, concentrating on the regular movement of Gene’s chest as he breathed, the warmth she could feel emanating from him. 

The sheer stubbornness of the man astounded her. Shot twice in the last week and still throwing his weight around at Fenchurch East, still able to make the lower echelons of East London society quake in fear and  _ still _ managing to ensure she was running on what amounted to half the quantity of sleep she was used to. 

Gene rolled onto his side and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. ‘Stop starin’, Bolly. You’ll ‘ave me blushin’,’ he murmured into her hair, his voice rough with sleep. She turned so her back was pressed against his front, smirking as she heard him stifle a moan. ‘Time is it?’ he asked, long fingers lightly skimming over her rib cage. 

‘About seven,’ she said, judging by the light outside. He sighed and rolled onto his back. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, rolling over and propping herself up on one elbow. 

‘See, Bolls, what I  _ want  _ to do is stay ‘ere and allow you to take advantage of me again. But I’ve got to go ‘ome before work an’ if I want to get in there before Deighton’s brief I’ll ‘ave to step lively.’ 

She smiled down at him, running her hand down over the part of his chest that wasn’t covered by bandage. 

‘An’ you can stop that an’ all,’ he growled, looking every bit as though he would welcome the distraction. ‘Gives me the ‘orn.’ 

‘Surely we’ve got time…’ she said, trailing off as he smirked at her. 

‘Thanks to you, Bolls, I ‘ad the afternoon off yesterday. No tellin’ what that bunch of clowns has been up to.’ He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing. 

‘They’re more than capable of running the station without you for a day or so, Gene,’ she chastised, watching appreciatively as he stretched. 

He turned, poised to make a snappy retort but his pout dissolved into a smirk when he caught her watching him. ‘Oi! I’m not just here for you to ogle, woman. Got a nick to run.’ 

She looked up at him, annoyed that she could feel herself flushing slightly. ‘Still a bit early,’ she pointed out. 

‘Told you, Bolly,’ he said, pulling his shirt on. ‘Got to go home first, have a shave and change me clothes. Otherwise I could stay ‘ere and be at your mercy.’ 

She rolled out of bed and walked around towards him, picking up her dressing gown from the floor and slipping it on. ‘You should just bring your things here, really,’ she said, concentrating on tying the belt. 

When he didn’t respond she looked up to see him paused halfway through buttoning his shirt, watching her carefully. She tracked back through what she’d just said and reddened slightly. Had she really all but asked him to move in? 

‘I mean, if you wanted to,’ she said hurriedly. ‘It would be easier. For work, I mean. If you…’ She trailed off and turned away from him. ‘Right,’ she said, feigning a bright tone she didn’t feel. ‘I’m just… I’m just going to have a shower.’ 

As she closed the bathroom door, she heard him call her name, followed by something else she didn’t catch, drowned out as it was by the sound of the shower. ‘I’ll see you at the station!’ she called though the door. 

*

When Gene strode in to CID ninety minutes later Alex was already at her desk. He barely paused on his way to his office, slowing only to drop a white paper bag on her desk. 

She opened it curiously, expecting to find a bacon sandwich or some other typical example of what the Guv considered an appropriate breakfast. She was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to find the bag contained a bagel of some kind. She looked up to thank him, but he was already in his office, shrugging out of his coat. 

He leaned out of the door to shout ‘Harper! Tea! Five sugars!’ before closing it and moving around behind his desk, picking up a file and sitting down, propping his feet up on the desk. 

Gene and Alex interviewed Lawrence Deighton at ten, managing to get through a whole half an hour before the man’s brief arrived, although Deighton himself didn’t seem to care one way or the other. 

After the interview, Gene seemed thoughtful. As Deighton was led back down to the cells, he stopped Alex in the corridor outside CID. 

‘What d’you think?’ he asked in a low voice. 

‘He’s pretty cocky, Guv,’ Alex said, keeping her own voice low. ‘Thinks he’s untouchable.’ 

Gene nodded, agreeing with her assessment. ‘Probably got a few bent coppers in ‘is pocket. Thinks he can afford to play smiley the happy bloody clown with us.’ 

‘Well, surely no one at Fenchurch East..?’ Alex asked quietly. 

‘This lot?’ He shook his head. ‘No, after that business with Super Mac they know the score. If I get to ‘ear of any bloody idiot linin’ his pocket I’ll ‘ave their head on a plate and their balls in a vice.’ 

‘I think he thinks we have no evidence.’ 

‘Don’t need evidence to ‘old ‘im. Got eyewitness testimony. Evidence can’t be far behind.’ 

‘Moira? Do you think she’ll testify, Guv? She seemed pretty terrified.’ 

He straightened, his voice switching from secretive to his normal brash tone. ‘Course she will, Bolls. After you’ve ‘ad a word. I ‘ad Moira and Carlisle put up in a hotel last night. Take Sawyer.’ 

‘Don’t you want to come?’ she asked, tilting her head to one side in surprise. 

He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. ‘Can’t ‘ave me all to yerself, Bolly, the others’ll get jealous. Mush.’ 

*

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Moira Allen had been more than happy to help in any way she could with the case against her stepfather, so long as Fenchurch East CID stayed involved every step of the way. 

Alex and Sheena arrived back at CID to find most of their colleagues gathered around a whiteboard, industriously trying to piece together Deighton’s human trafficking operation. Alex sat at her desk, watching as Gene took the board marker from Tremaine and added to the list of known associates already on the board. As he handed the pen back the doors to CID opened again, admitting Liam Clarke. 

A hush fell over the room, attention swaying between Gene, still looking intently at the board and Clarke, who was watching the back of Gene’s head carefully. Alex could feel the tension in CID as the room collectively held its’ breath, waiting for the Guv to react. 

Gene glanced over his shoulder. ‘DI Clarke. Yer late. Get yer arse over ‘ere and help us build this profile. You too, Bolls.’ 

*

A couple of hours later, Gene called time on the day and the entire department headed over to Franco’s for a late ‘lunch’. 

‘So really, we’ve got-‘ Alex broke off as she reached the steps down to the trattoria, realizing she was alone. She turned to see Gene standing at the kerb, his hands in his pockets. ‘Are you not coming to Luigi’s, Guv?’ 

‘Franco’s,’ he corrected. 

She rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. Aren’t you coming in?’ 

‘Not tonight. Quite fancy a night in,’ he said, glancing down at his boots as he spoke. 

‘A night in?’ she repeated, raising her eyebrows questioningly. 

‘Yeah,’ he said, scuffing his feet on the kerb and looking more uncomfortable by the second. ‘Just the two of us. Quiet like.’ 

She smiled, torn between relief that this morning’s embarrassment seemed to be completely behind them, and amusement at his awkwardness. ‘Oh yes?’ 

He looked up at her, blue eyes suddenly piercing as discomfort was replaced with a heated look she’d come to recognize. ‘Yes,’ he said, stepping into her personal space, the tone of his voice making her shiver. ‘So let's be 'avin you, Bollykecks, before that lot – ‘

‘Guv!’ 

Alex almost moaned aloud in dismay as Simon Tremaine reappeared at the top of the stairs. 

‘I told you to bloody ‘urry up,’ Gene growled at her. 

‘You coming for a drink, Guv? Ma’am?’ Simon asked, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was interrupting a moment. 

‘Of course,’ Alex said, smiling. 

‘ _ Of course _ ,’ Gene repeated, murmuring in her ear as he moved to precede her down to the restaurant. ‘One drink. Then I'm carryin’ you up those bloody stairs.’ 

*

One drink had turned into two, and then a bottle as Alex and Gene sat with the rest of CID. Towards the end of the bottle, Alex found herself watching more than taking part, seeing the way the team fitted around Gene, the easy way he interacted with them now his guard was down. 

Realizing the wine bottle was empty, she got up to order another before Gene could shout at Franco. In the mirror over the bar she saw Liam Clarke slip into her seat opposite Gene, putting two glasses of scotch down on the table between them. 

‘Clarke,’ Gene said, his voice just reaching Alex’s ears over the chatter of CID. ‘Been wantin’ a word with you.’ 

‘This is going to be about Alex, isn’t it?’ Liam said. 

‘Drake?’ Gene scoffed. ‘She bloody wishes. This is about you and me, Clarke.’ He took a sip of the scotch. ‘You see this place?’ he asked. ‘It may be filthy, scum-ridden and too many miles bloody south, but it’s mine. And that lot, busy gettin’ blind drunk over there?’ he nodded towards the rest of the team, currently engaged in a drinking game Alex vaguely recognized as something she’d seen Gene and Ray play once before. ‘They might be lazy and tarnished and so bloody stupid sometimes I wouldn’t trust ‘em to count their bollocks twice and get the same answer. Except Sawyer, o’ course. And that’s only ‘cos she doesn’t ‘ave any and it's easy to count to zero. But  _ they _ are mine. That man you were cosyin’ up to…. that man is dangerous. And if I ever ‘ave even the sniff of a suspicion that you are puttin’ any of my team in danger again –  _ any  _ of ‘em – you’ll find out just how much of a bastard I can be.’ 

‘You  _ did _ shoot me, Guv,’ Liam said mildly. 

‘Consider it a friendly warnin’.’

‘He said you broke his jaw.’ 

Alex smiled as she heard Gene snort in amusement. ‘Did he now? ’s nothin’ to what I’ll break if ‘e comes round ‘ere again.’ 

‘I was staring into an abyss, Guv,’ Liam said. ‘I’d lost everything. You can’t imagine what that’s like.’ 

In the pause that followed, Alex rolled her eyes in anticipation of Gene’s response.  _ No. Because  _ ** _I _ ** _ am not a bloody fairy. _

‘You know, I think I can,’ Gene said quietly. 

Liam regarded him in silence for a moment before taking a sip of his scotch. ‘God that’s strong,’ he wheezed. ‘How you can drink that at nine in the morning I’ll never know.’ 

‘Pouf,’ Gene sneered. 

‘So what do I do if it happens again?’ 

Alex heard the click of Gene’s lighter as he lit a cigarette. There was a pause and she watched him take a drag before exhaling the smoke, watching Liam through narrowed eyes. ‘The job.’ 

‘And if that’s not enough?’ Liam sounded just as desperate as he’d been outside the warehouses, but it was different now, as though he was asking Gene for reassurance. ‘It wasn’t… before.’ 

‘That, Inspector, is where  _ I _ come in.’ 

‘I hear things sometimes.’ 

‘You want to get your ‘ead examined.’ 

‘No. From… there,’ Liam said. 

‘Don't know what you mean,’ Gene said flatly. 

‘You really don't, do you?’ Liam said thoughtfully. ‘The boy on your warrant card. Who was that?’ 

Alex stiffened, remembering Liam’s reaction when Gene showed him his warrant card.  _ But, that can't be yours. That's just a kid… _

‘Me,’ Gene said. ‘Look.’ He fished in his pocket and retrieved his warrant card, flipping it open and dropping it on the table. 

‘But that’s not… It was different before.’ 

Gene stubbed out his cigarette, regarding Liam with the steady, unflinching gaze only a career criminal or a copper could bestow. The look, in fact, of a born bastard. ‘Don't know what you're talkin’ about.’ 

‘Why am I here? Everywhere I could have gone and I end up here.’ 

‘I know why,’ Gene said softly as he stowed his warrant card away in his inside pocket. ‘Same reason I am. Some part of you still believes this - what we do - makes a difference.’

‘And Alex? Is that why she's here?’ 

‘That’s her business,’ Gene said, his voice regaining its usual brusque tone. 

Liam was silent a moment before responding, his tone more jovial this time. ‘And yours I reckon, Guv.’ 

Alex tensed, expecting Gene to react badly, but he responded in kind. ‘Oh you do, do you?’ 

‘You should be over there with her, instead of here talking to me.’ 

‘You know what, Liam? You're spot on. ‘scuse me.’ 

In the mirror, Alex watched Gene rise and drain his drink, moving around the table and heading for the bar. 

Liam turned in his seat. ‘He knows you Guv,’ he called. ‘That man we were talking about. He knows how to break you.’ 

Gene looked up, catching Alex’s gaze in the mirror for a moment before turning back to Liam. ‘That a threat?’ 

‘A warning. I don’t want him to get to them. He's D and C. When you shot me, you were basically inviting him in to Fenchurch East.’

‘He’s not a bloody vampire, Clarke.’ He appeared to consider this for a moment. ‘Mind you…’ 

‘I mean it, Guv. He knows where you’re vulnerable.’ 

‘Nothin’ vulnerable about the Gene Genie, Clarke.’ 

‘I’m talking about Alex. He got me to use her against you.’ 

Gene glanced at the rest of the team, but they were paying no attention to he conversation between their DCI and DI. ‘Bolly’s tougher than she looks. She can look after herself.’ 

‘And when she can’t?’ 

‘Sorted you out, didn’t I?’ 

‘Gene, he knows how to get to you. Knows it’s her.’ 

Alex watched Gene walked back towards Liam and lean down, putting both hands on the table, saying something that was too low for her to hear. 

They stared at one another for a long moment, before Liam gave a relieved nod and Gene straightened, turning without another word and joining Alex at the bar. She pushed a tumbler towards him. 

‘You heard all o’ that I take it?’ he said, draining the glass in one gulp. 

‘Most of it. You didn't hit him,’ she said, looking down into her wineglass to hide her smirk. 

‘Thought about it,’ he replied, pouting as he watched Franco refill his glass. 

‘But you didn't. I'm proud of you,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘What did you say to him, just then?’ 

‘Nothin’.’ 

‘Gene – ‘

‘Do me a favour an’ put a sock in it, Bolls.’ 

She smiled, watching his throat convulse as he knocked back his scotch. He set his glass down on the bar with a thump and looked down at her as he pulled his coat on. ‘Right. I’ve ‘ad enough socialisin’ for one evenin’. Allow me to escort you upstairs, Lady Bolls?’ 

She nodded and he held her coat out so she could put her arms through the sleeves, brushing his fingertips against her neck as he straightened her collar. She shivered, knowing he would see it but unable to stop her reaction. 

She turned to look up at him but froze at the expression on his face. He was looking beyond her, towards the restaurant door. She looked around quickly and saw the tail of someone’s coat as they left the building. She turned back to Gene. 

‘Gene what – ‘

‘Stay here.’ 

‘Guv-‘ she protested, reacting to the tone in his voice. But he was gone, out the door and up the stairs before she could stop him. ‘Wait here?’ she muttered. ‘Not bloody likely.’ She headed up the stairs slowly, stopping before she reached the top and peering through the railings. Alex felt her stomach turn over as she saw a hunched figure leaning against the Merc, bathed in the orange light of the streetlamp overhead. 

‘Detective Inspector Keats,’ Gene said, stopping a little way away, still shrouded in shadow. ‘To what do I owe the… well, I’d say pleasure but we both know I’d be lyin’.’

‘It’s DCI actually thanks Gene,’ Keats said, looking up. ‘Car looks good,’ he added, tapping the bonnet of the Merc. ‘Nice paintjob.’ 

‘Heard you were demoted.’ 

‘My boss recognizes an honest mistake when he sees it.’ 

‘Why do I get the feelin’,’ Gene said contemplatively, ‘that you’re not talkin’ about your Super?’ He lit a cigarette and dropped the lighter back into his coat pocket. 

‘Displacement activity,’ Keats said, smiling and nodding towards the cigarette. ‘I must make you nervous, Gene.’ 

‘Don’t flatter yerself, Jimbo.’ Gene asked. ‘Want one?’ Keats nodded and Gene tossed him the packet. Keats lit a cigarette and made to throw the packet back. ‘Keep ‘em,’ Gene said, making no effort to help light the other man’s cigarette. ‘Can’t smoke upstairs anyway.’ 

‘Oh yes. Alex Drake, stacked up with her DCI, what will her colleagues think?’

‘They'll think she's a lucky bloody cow.’

‘Could make things difficult for her,’ Keats said, looking at the tip of his cigarette in mock contemplation.

‘Can’t say as I care, Jim. Don’t think Alex cares what that bunch of twats thinks either.’

Keats smiled, the streetlamp overhead casting strange shadows on his face. ‘I can help you with that. With all of this really…’

‘That why you’re ‘ere?’ Gene asked. ‘To offer me a way out?’

‘I’ve got the power,’ Keats said. ‘Quick transfer…’

‘You’ve got nothin’ I want, Jimbo.’ 

‘I think I do have something you want, Gene. I can guarantee her safety.’ 

Gene hesitated a moment and Alex saw his shoulders tense. ‘I don’t make deals wi’ people like you. Not anymore.’ 

‘Not even to save Alex? Not even to keep her safe, Gene?’ 

When Gene spoke, his tone was one of deep disappointment. ‘Oh, James. When are you gonna learn that you can’t tempt me? You’ve got nothin’ to offer that I can’t sort out meself.’ 

‘Actually, I think you’re right, Gene,’ Keats said, dropping the cigarette to the road and grinding it underfoot. ‘You don’t have it in you to see what I’m offering. Alex though, she’s a smart girl. If you hadn’t been there that night I reckon she’d have come with me.‘ 

‘But I  _ was _ there,’ Gene said. ‘And I’ll always be there.’ 

‘You’re just a PC in plain clothes, Gene. The boy who never made it past his first week on the job. Who died all alone in a remote farmhouse while everyone he knew celebrated the coronation.’ 

Alex looked at Gene. In the half-light from the streetlight, it seemed as though the long dark material of his coat was different. Silver insignia glinted at his shoulders for a moment before he shifted, dispelling the image. 

‘Rather be a PC in plain clothes than whatever the bloody ‘ell you’re supposed to be. ‘Cos you just can’t work it out, can you? Can’t work out why you lost Chris, Ray and Shaz. Why Alex and Clarke wouldn’t come wi’ you instead of stoppin' with me.’ 

‘I tore your kingdom apart once before,  _ Guv _ . I can do it again,’ Keats said, his voice coming out in a hiss. ‘’Cos I know everything about you, Gene. Every nasty, violent thing you’ve ever done. Every backhander, every blind eye turned, every time you’ve gone that bit too far with a suspect. Your whole life, Gene Hunt.’ 

‘Try it,’ Gene growled. ‘Just you try an’ bring me down again. I might not be able to bury you, Keats. But I can  _ promise _ you that I will make sure you never set foot inside a police station again.’

‘Thing is Gene, you make yourself so visible, don’t ya? Always have to be “the Guv”. The Manc Lion, large as life and twice as ugly. Me, I keep my head down. Makes it easier to get about. Talk to people.’

‘Yeah?’ Gene asked, stepping forward into the pool of light surrounding Keats. ‘Well, you’re gonna ‘ave to do that elsewhere. I catch wind of you anywhere near my officers and I will tie you to the rear bumper of my car and drive up the M1. And another thing, if I ever ‘ear you’re even thinkin’ about Alex – and I  _ will _ hear about it – I will make sure you’re singin’ soprano for the rest of eternity.’ 

‘I wondered why you didn’t send Alex back. You think you’re stronger with her here, Gene, but you’re not. What about when she forgets? How are  _ you _ going to hold onto her then? When she doesn’t need you to fill the hole left by her little girl anymore? When she doesn’t need the Guv to make it all better,’ he sneered. ‘When you’ve forgotten again.’

Gene stepped forwards, stopping just in front of Keats and towering over him as the other man continued to lean against the Merc. ‘Firstly, get your arse off my car. Secondly, don’t you  _ ever _ talk about Alex’s daughter again.’ 

Keats stood slowly, brushing himself off in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but Alex could see he was rattled. Something about Gene was worrying him. She didn’t blame him, even unable to see Gene’s face she could sense the righteous anger radiating from him, could sense the need to protect his team – to protect  _ her _ – pouring off him. 

‘And thirdly?’ Keats hissed. 

‘Thirdly,  _ DCI _ Keats. I will never forget why I’m ‘ere. But it doesn’t make a blind bit o’ difference to what I  _ am _ . I’m a copper. And I’m a bloody good copper. I’ll make sure that lot are bloody good coppers too. And I’ll keep Bolly as close to sane as she’s ever been,’ he snapped, punctuating the last word with a shove to Keats’ shoulder. ‘And while I’m at it, I’ll keep ‘er just annoyed enough to remember who she is  _ and _ keep a bloody smile on ‘er face every night, which is more than I suspect you’ve ever done for anyone in your entire pointless existence. And don’t you worry about the Gene Genie, Jimbo, ‘cos I’ll be sitting pretty in my kingdom, watchin’ my little soldiers marchin’ to the beat of my drum and I  _ will _ weed out any rotten apples with before they can poison the whole bloody crop.’ 

Keats stared, his mouth hanging open as though he was going to speak but couldn’t find the words. Alex looked between them, admiring the aesthetics of the scene itself. Keats, dark and secret somehow, twisted by the force of the tirade that had been unleashed upon him. And Gene Hunt, seeming to tower over him, the blond of his hair under the streetlight contrasting with the dark collar of his coat. She remembered what she’d thought the first night she’d been back. Her angry angel. And he was every inch of that right now. 

‘This place is all about balance, Gene,’ Keats said finally. ‘The balance between you and me. And I’ll always be there. I have every confidence that even your officers’ll see the clear choice between a brash, violent brute and a decent hardworking copper such as myself. The minute your back’s turned I’ll be there.‘

‘I don’t bloody doubt it,’ Gene snapped. ‘Now I want you to get into whatever shit heap of a car you used to get ‘ere and drive away, Jimbo.  _ Now. _ ’

Keats glanced up at him and seemed to shrink back even further for a moment, before turning and walking away, his shoulders hunched as though trying to protect himself from Gene’s glare. 

Gene lit another cigarette and took a drag before turning and leaning against the Merc, watching Keats move down the street. ‘Come on out, Bolls.’ 

Alex climbed the last couple of steps and moved to lean against the car at his side. ‘Guv.’ 

‘Are you ever goin’ to do as you’re bloody well told, woman?’ he asked mildly, not taking his gaze from Keats’ back. 

‘I thought you might need me,’ she admitted. 

‘I did.’ 

‘What?’ she asked. 

‘Knew you were there.’ He glanced at her. ‘Thank you,’ he added, returning his gaze to Keats as the other man got into what looked like an extremely beaten up Volvo 343. ‘He offered to keep you safe,’ Gene said contemplatively. 

‘I don’t need to be kept safe.’

He snorted derisively. ‘You bloody do. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was as much of a trouble magnet as you.’ 

‘Pot. Kettle. Black, Gene.’ He glanced down at her before returning his gaze to the street. ‘I’ll do you a deal, Guv. You watch my arse and I’ll watch yours.’

The side of his face she could see looked amused at her choice of words. ‘Can think of worse ways to spend me days I s’pose.’ 

Alex dropped her hand to rest beside his on the bonnet, her eyes widening in surprise as she felt him run his little finger over hers. She glanced down at their hands, trying and failing to conceal her smile at the unexpectedly tender gesture, performed while Gene continued to glare after Keats, pout firmly in place. 

‘Should we go up?’ she asked as Keats’ car turned at the top of the road. 

‘You go on, Bolls. I’ve got keys. Gonna send that miserable lot ‘ome and make sure that jumped up little prick doesn’t double back.’ 

Alex nodded and moved away from the car, heading for the flat door. Before she reached the kerb on the other side of the road, she turned and walked back towards Gene. He looked up as she approached, confusion flashing in his eyes in the split second before she grabbed his tie and pulled him towards her, pressing a hard kiss against his parted lips. 

Before his surprise could fade enough for him to take an active part in the kiss she released him, stepping back and looking up at him through her lashes. ‘Don’t be long, will you Guv?’ she murmured, smirking at the look on his face. 

‘Don’t be long?’ he repeated, recovering slightly. ‘At this rate I’ll be there before you and you know that’s not ‘ow I like to do things.’ 

Alex smiled and walked to the flat door, feeling his gaze on her back all the way. 

*

When she reached the flat she headed for the bedroom, aware she’d left it in a bit of a mess that morning. Upon entering the room, however, she saw the bed had been made and the previous day’s clothes were in the laundry bin. Suspicious, she moved into the bathroom, where her towel had been picked up from the floor and hung on the rail. As she turned to leave the room, she froze. Something was wrong. 

Alex turned slowly around in the tiny bathroom, trying to work out what had changed. Finally, her gaze alighted on the sink. A man’s razor was resting on the edge of the sink. She stepped forwards and picked it up. Perfectly innocuous object that it was, it seemed to weigh an awful lot in her hands.  _ You should just bring your things here, really. _

She put it back down and walked back into the bedroom, moving to the wardrobe and opening it. Her clothes hung on one side, as they had the whole time she’d lived in the flat. Alongside them were the men’s shirts the wardrobe had always contained, but they seemed to have been joined by others, along with several suits she recognized. 

She reached towards one of the suit jackets and ran her hand down the sleeve, well aware that she had a slightly soppy smile on her face. 

‘You were right, Bolls.’ Gene’s voice sounded from behind her. ‘I can think of a much better use of my time in the mornin’ than goin’ ‘ome. Much better start to the day. That ok?’ 

She turned, still holding the sleeve of his jacket. ‘It’s more than ok, Gene,’ she said softly. 

‘Soppy mare,’ he said, looking slightly uncomfortable. He glanced down at her hand. ‘Real thing’s probably better, Bolls,’ he said, holding out a hand to her. 

She took it and stepped towards him, feeling him slide his arms around her waist as she pressed herself against him. ‘Now,’ he said, the gravelly tone of his voice making her shiver. ‘Where were we?’ 


End file.
